


Backslide

by Recourse



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 07:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6460513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Recourse/pseuds/Recourse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the truth is revealed aboard the Leviathan, the Dark Lord Revan reappears in her full glory and attacks Malak — and then something draws her back.</p><p>A retelling of the final act of Knights of the Old Republic, covering Revan's struggle with her past and identity as her memories return, Bastila's fall to the dark side, and Carth's acceptance of Revan's identity. Heavy on the FemRevan/Bastila.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

In the end, his words provoked only one image that mattered. Her own face reflected in a mirror as she fitted the mask of the Dark Lord of the Sith to it, obscuring it behind iconography, becoming Darth Revan. This image, repeated a hundred times, a thousand times, ever since the Mandalorian Wars began, when she cut off the head of one of Mandalore's finest and made a mockery of it.

Revan stared at the disfigured man before her, as he laughed himself sick at the irony of Revan helping the Jedi. Behind her, Bastila tried to explain, tried to stutter something out, but Revan didn't hear her. The only one in her vision was Malak.

"So I'm Revan," she said, a twisted smile creeping across her face. "And you're Malak. And Malak never faced Revan in battle. Malak fired on her ship from miles away." She unclipped her saber from her belt. "Because Malak is an incompetent fool."

Malak's laughter stopped in its tracks. "You _dare,_ " he seethed through his vocoder. "You should've seen the betrayal coming. There is more to weakness than physical skill. You were always weak of heart."

"Excuses." Revan ignited one end of her saber, then the other, filling the room with its violet glow. "Excuses from a dead man."

Malak barely had time to freeze Carth and Bastila before a whirlwind of purple descended on him. Revan was a storm of violent energy, her lightsaber twirling and driving at Malak with a ferocity he never expected from a Jedi puppet. It was all he could do to light his own weapon and deflect the blows, even as she drove him back further and further into the network of pressure doors.

Revan saw the fear in his eyes as she backed him into a corner. He crouched beneath the fury of her blows, beneath the lightning in her eyes, and every parry drove him closer and closer to the ground and to decapitation and a final ending to this absurd tale of student and master. She grinned wildly, until he managed to pull up on the next parry and send her saber spinning from her grasp, clattering to the floor twenty feet away as it turned itself off.

He had no time to gloat, even as he tried to - his laughter was interrupted by Revan simply throwing both her hands in his direction and channeling a torrent of lightning into his flesh. And he screamed, a terrible sound through the vocoder, his jaw flashing and sparking, cords popping out from where it attached to the stump she'd left him with.

"I tore off that prattling overconfident jaw of yours after you destroyed Telos," she sneered as he collapsed. "You dare to mock me with that _thing_ I built for you?"

Malak could feel the lightning eating into his eyes, through his veins, even leaving his body through his fingertips as he came closer and closer to the floor. Revan's eyes flashed in the glow of her assault, her black hair flying wildly in the force of the storm she was unleashing. Malak choked as he realized he was going to die.

Until someone called her name. Her _fake_ name.

* * *

The woman torturing Malak couldn't be her. Bastila hadn't been able to see the Dark Lord since Taris. Malae could be dangerous, could be angry, could go too far when an enemy hurt her friends, but this was something else. This was Revan.

It was Revan standing over Malak and cackling, lightning spewing from her fingers. Her veins stood out from her face as the glow of lightning flashed across it, and all Bastila could see as she rounded the corner was the face that had stared at her after she'd struck the mask from Revan's head, the face that had called her _pathetic_ , the face that had cursed her for giving Malak the opportunity, the face that had said, before all its memories were gone, _you could never have killed me on your own._ Their bond was gone, and all Bastila could feel coming from the woman torturing the Dark Lord were waves of anger and hate and hurt blooming off of her in black and red waves, like a great supernova in the Force.

It was not Malae. It was not the woman she had shared nights with on Kashyyk, staring out into the forest together and talking about what had transpired below. It was not the woman who'd convinced her to reconnect with her mother. It was not the woman who had risked everything just to spare the life of a giant shark. It was not the woman she had kissed in a moment of weakness in the cargo bay as they left Manaan and headed straight into the Leviathan's jaws.

Yet that was the name she called out. The name she had picked for the false history the Jedi gave her. And when she called, the lightning stopped.

Malae's eyes turned back to blue, and her hair fell back to her shoulders, and Malak stopped his screaming. Her arms dropped to her sides as she looked at Bastila. "You knew," she whispered. And then Malak struck.

He ignited his lightsaber and flailed wildly at Malae as she tried to back away. Her arm dropped to the steel floor, and she screamed, staring at Bastila all the while.

Bastila acted in an instant, drawing her own weapon and throwing it at Malak as it ignited, slicing his mechanical jaw clean off. As the weapon returned to her, she thrust herself between Malak and Malae, blocking a fatal blow from cutting Malae in two. As Malae crumpled to the floor behind her, Bastila pressed the attack, sending Malak and herself behind another of the bulkheads, leaving Malae's mutilated body on the ground behind her, praying that she could stop the Dark Lord from finishing his betrayal at long last.

* * *

Carth found her saber first, sitting on the floor just in front of the door he'd managed to finally hack open. His eyes moved up from there to see her, and her arm, lying on the ground ahead. "No," he whispered, despite himself, as he snatched up her weapon and ran to her side. "No," he said again, even though he should be happy to see Revan lying on the ground, at his mercy. He could pull his blaster and fire right into her head. He could take revenge for all of the Republic. But as he looked at her face, with tear streaks running down it, all he could see was Malae, the woman who had brought him halfway across the galaxy, by her side, always by her side.

Canderous' gruff tones interrupted his thoughts. "Flyboy, get your ass down to the Hawk before I leave without you. We can't stay here," his pocket said.

Carth clipped her lightsaber onto her belt and hoisted her up with both arms. "Where's Bastila?" he asked, and her eyes struggled to open.

"Alek," she murmured.

"Can we get to her?"

"Let me down. I can-I'll _kill_ him-" She squirmed in his grasp.

"You've lost an arm, you're in shock, you're in no condition to fight," Carth told her, and she seemed to really look at her stump for the first time, and went limp again.

"Onasi! Hawk! Now!" Canderous shouted, and Carth ran.

As the hangar opened up wide before him, Carth could feel the woman in his arms stirring. "Where..." she asked, but he was already pounding up the Ebon Hawk's rising ramp, nearly bowling over Zaalbar as he headed straight for the medical bay.

"Get Jolee!" he shouted to Zaalbar as he laid Malae on the cot. "And tell Canderous to get up to the gun turret, now!" He ran into the cockpit and switched seats with Canderous just as another Interdictor ship flared into existence in front of him - he only had a moment to spare before he'd be caught in another tractor beam. He gunned the Ebon Hawk out of the hangar and down between the ships, and hit light speed as soon as the computer told him it wouldn't kill him.

He laid back in the seat and sighed. There was too much to tell the crew.


	2. Chapter 2

She dreamt of betrayal.

Malak betraying her by firing on her ship; Malak betraying her by destroying an entire useful planet; the Republic betraying her by threatening to turn her over to the Jedi; the Jedi betraying the Republic by not getting involved when millions were burning. She dreamt of Darth Revan.

She woke to Jolee.

"You really ought to keep better track of your things," he said, smiling. "When you leave them on a Sith ship you usually don't get 'em back."

She looked over to her stump and remembered: Bastila betraying her by hiding the truth. Bastila betraying her by kissing her and not telling her the truth. Bastila betraying her by calling her a fake name when Malak was sure to die. Her fist clenched and flared with lightning, scorching its own palm as she tried to contain Revan.

"Whoah, kid!" Jolee put both his hands on hers, sending a wave of soothing energy into her fist. The burns receded, and she let her fingers go flat.

"Where's Bastila?" she asked. "Did she save me?"

"We..." Jolee cleared his throat. "We had to leave her. Carth carried you in."

Malae felt a chill in her heart. Revan felt jealousy grip her gut, he'd _stolen_ her apprentice, he'd have her now, he'd break her and turn her against her, that pathetic prattling mynock. And then she grasped what Jolee had told her.

"I can't believe he did that," she said quietly.

"Why?" Jolee asked, running his fingers over her palm and calming the last of the burns.

"He didn't tell you?"

"Didn't tell me what? Stop speaking in riddles, kid, or I'll pretend I'm deaf again."

"I'm Revan."

"Oh, I knew that already," Jolee scoffed, waving his hand. "He didn't tell anyone else, though. Think he wanted you awake for it."

"You _knew_?" Revan grabbed him by the throat as she hurtled off the bed, slamming him into the wall. "And you didn't _tell_ me? Who else knew? How many people _lied_ to me?!"

"Can't - _cufgh-_ see how... you expect... me to say that without...letting me breathe," Jolee choked, and Malae's eyes widened as she realized what she was doing. She let him drop as she backed away, cradling her forehead in her hand.

"Sorry, sorry, I-I can't-"

"It wasn't my place," Jolee said, rubbing his throat. "Probably should've told you earlier. I can see her in you now. I'm guessing the news wasn't broken easily."

"Malak told me."

"Ah."

"I tortured him. Almost killed him. Then Bastila called me - she called me Malae, and I stopped. And then...well." She looked at her stump again and cringed. "I..." Her eyes welled up with tears. "I can't fight anymore. I'm broken. The one thing I was ever good for-"

"Oh, you're awake," Carth intoned dully from behind her. As she turned to face him, he saw the pain in her eyes, but couldn't find a way to react.

"Kid, if all you were good for was fighting in one-on-one combat, there wouldn't be a Sith armada about ready to crush the galaxy," Jolee said, putting a hand on Malae's shoulder. "Trust me. You don't need both arms to win a war." Malae turned to him and buried her head in his chest.

Carth put his hand to his forehead. This was all way above his pay grade.

"Look, Rev - Malae, I know this can't be easy on you," he began, "but I think the rest of the crew needs to know. I guess Jolee already does."

Malae just sniffed.

"I'll, uh, meet you in the main room when you're ready, okay?"

Malae nodded. As Carth made his way out, she murmured something into Jolee's robe.

"What?" Carth asked, pausing.

"Thank you," she said, removing herself from the fabric. "For rescuing me. I know you didn't want to."

"That's the thing. I did. And I didn't." Carth sighed. "Look, let's just-meet me in the main room."

* * *

Bastila's knees ground against the steel floor of her force cage. With her hands bound behind her back in an all-encasing metal box, she could find no better way to sit despite the pain and the creaking in her legs. She tried to control her breathing, struggling to flex her fingers in their confinement. The door slid open in front of her as Malak entered the room.

"You should have let Revan kill me. Now you see the weakness of the Jedi, just as Revan once did. It is always simpler to kill your enemies, to crush them beneath you so they can never rise again. You are not better than me for stopping my death. You are simply worse at war," he forced through the thin speak grille at the top of his throat. His mutilated jaw barely moved as he spoke, the detached lips waggling repulsively from the pieces that remained.

Bastila said nothing. It was only when a terrifying heat gripped her head that she cried out in pain, a white-hot finger of Malak's power worming its way into her mind. When feeling returned to her, she heard his mechanical laughter from the floor.

"Another sentinel, Revan? Predictable. She was always so charismatic, I'm not surprised she got to you. She'll abandon you, just like she did her General. Just like she did to me. Someday you'll 'betray' her in some way, and she'll leave you behind. It's in her nature."

"Liar," Bastila spat, earning her another chuckle from the Dark Lord as she tried to rise back to her knees.

"I, at least, make good use of my subjects, my apprentices. Bandon never had a bad word to say about me...until you killed him." Malak paused, looking down at Bastila. "You might make a good pet, yourself. We'll see how you're faring when we get back to Lehon. For now..."

Malak slowly approached the console beside Bastila's cage, staring her directly in the eye as he keyed it to start. "Goodnight, Jedi," he said, and the twisted remnants of his lips curled into a smile as the floor began to crackle and arc beneath Bastila's feet.

As electricity surged through her, she desperately searched her mind for somewhere to go, some way to control the pain, to ignore the anger and shame at being captured that the torture brought, and quite suddenly-

_Revan sighed as she stepped into the upper-city apartment she'd claimed was her hideout. Malae, Bastila remembered, Malae's her new name. "Guess Carth's out," she said, stretching her back. "Well, I could use the downtime anyway, don't want to get in a_ third _argument with you before I've even had a shower."_

" _And I'm supposed to believe he was ever here?" Bastila asked, putting her hand on her hip. Perhaps this was all a trap to get Bastila up to the Sith levels - but then why had Revan, or Malae, or whoever, given her back her saber after the 'rescue'?_

" _Sweetheart," Malae ground out through her teeth, "I think I_ just said _no more arguments until I've wiped this slime off me. Can you manage that?"_

" _I hardly think it's appropriate to call a member of the Jedi Order-"_

_The sound of Malae's double-bladed sword clattering to the ground interrupted Bastila's scolding, and she suddenly found herself speechless anyway as Malae started to unzip her light battle armor, revealing a broad, muscled back dotted with tiny scars. Bastila knew they came from lightsabers and vibroblades; she wondered what the Council had put into her mind to explain them. She found her gaze shifting down as Malae stepped out of her armor._

" _See something you like?" Malae purred, looking over her shoulder with a smirk._

_Bastila felt a sudden heat in her face, and stammered, "Your-your scars, they just, they surprised me is all."_

" _I have a lot of scars on my ass, do I?"_

" _I was just - just thinking that I might have been ungrateful, so I looked down. Did you get those on Taris trying to rescue me?" Bastila asked, desperate to change the subject._

" _Oh, some, but I had some pretty rough times early in the war, I'll tell you about them sometime," Malae said, stepping over to the bathroom. "You get to go next. I mean, you've been without longer than me, but you also didn't walk through a sewer yesterday, so I think I take priority."_

" _If this is some sort of trap..."_

" _Lady, I wouldn't be getting half-naked in front of you for a trap, I'm just not that subtle," Malae promised as she opened the bathroom door. Before she stepped in, she looked directly at Bastila, and with a wink added, "And I like what I see, too."_

_Bastila crossed her arms over her chest as the door closed, suddenly mindful of how cold it was with the damned slave outfit on._

As the pain finally forced her eyes to close, Bastila smiled at herself despite it all. _Such a prideful fool,_ she thought, and all went black.

* * *

Carth expected her to limp into the main room on Jolee's shoulder, but when she emerged he realized that was foolish. The woman had always been proud, so perhaps seeing her simply stride into the room like nothing was wrong shouldn't have been such a surprise. But the image of her still, mutilated body still hovered in his mind - as did the image of the Dark Lord.

"So," she said as she took a seat next to Carth.

"Are you going to tell them, or should I?" he asked.

"I think it should be me. Can you call them here?"

"Sure."

As Carth leaned over the table, searching for the intercom button, he couldn't help but notice her fingers, clenching and spreading out and clenching again. As strong as she was, he could tell she was still in pain, from the seething breath she could barely control to the tension in her face.

"We can do this later. You're obviously-"

"Let's get it _over_ with," she forced out. "If my crew's going to kill me there's no need to wait for me to recover."

"You had your arm chopped off less than twelve hours ago."

"I found out I was Revan less than twelve hours ago. Call them."

Carth pushed down on the button and cleared his throat. "We have something to discuss. I'd like everyone to come to the commons."

As they filtered in from the dormitories, the engines, and the cargo bays, Carth saw her fist form and remain tense. He wanted to tell her to breathe, to relax, that it would all be fine - but those are things he would've said to Malae, not Revan.

Mission covered her mouth as soon as she got a look at Revan, and she gave a weak smile back. Zaalbar put a hand on Mission's shoulder and softly chuffed. Canderous just grunted when he saw the injury, while Juhani stared from her alcove. The droids arrived together from the cargo bay, and Jolee leaned against the back wall when Revan began to speak.

"Saul and Malak told us something on that ship," she said, a croak in her voice. "Something...about me. It's big. And it...it explains a lot. About why I can find these Star Maps, why Bastila and I were bonded."

"Were bonded? But I thought - no, you're serious," Juhani whispered. "I can't see the link between you anymore. Is she-?"

"I don't know," Revan said. "I broke it myself, after I learned who I really am. I...I didn't react well."

"What are you blathering about? What could possibly break your resolve?" Canderous asked bluntly. "You never had trouble speaking your mind before."

"Bastila never killed Revan. Malak fired on her ship, and when that didn't quite work, tried to kill her with the Force from afar, attacking her mind. Bastila kept her alive, but her memories were gone. So the Jedi Council made a new identity for her." Revan seemed to be searching for someone to pin her gaze on, and settled on Canderous, looking him directly in the eye. "That identity was Malae Kejin-Arin."

Only the humming of the engine and the whirring of the droids' circuitry filled the next few seconds. "You mean..." Mission finally managed, her eyes pleading.

"I am Darth Revan. Or I was. However you choose to see it."

Canderous crossed the distance between them and stood beside Revan's chair. He held out a hand.

"Glad to finally meet you."

Revan couldn't help but smile as she shook his hand.

"Is no one else shocked by this? Aren't any of you, any of you worried she might just go back to being Revan and betray us all?" Carth blurted. "I, I saw her when she found out, she wasn't like herself at all, she wanted to _murder_ Malak."

"It's true," Revan said, looking down. "I-I felt so betrayed, so hurt, and so _angry_. I lost control, and I severed the link between me and Bastila in my rage, I even used Force lightning on Malak. I...I enjoyed watching him suffer. There was a lot flooding back in that fight."

"You mean...you remember being Revan?" A squeak found its way into Mission's voice as she backed up into Zaalbar.

"Pieces," Revan said. "I remembered putting on the mask. I remember...I remember taking Malak's jaw off for destroying Telos when I told him to take the planet. And there's some other things, just information really, not actual memories. The Republic threatened to turn me over to the Jedi after Malachor. That's when I took the fleet and looked for the Star Maps the first time."

"So you could go back? Fall to the dark side, just as you did before?" Juhani asked.

"I could. But that risk was always there, I think," Revan said.

"Nonsense," Jolee opined from the back. "You think I haven't been watching you ever since I worked it out? You're as much at as much a risk of falling as me, kid."

"You didn't see me on the Leviathan," Revan countered, turning to face him. "I was an animal. I _felt_ like Lord Revan, I _felt_ her hurt, her betrayal, her righteous rage at the Republic and the Jedi and their ideals in that moment."

"Ah, but who do you want to be?" Jolee countered.

Revan paused, clenching her fist. "I want to be Malae," she said after a moment. "I want to be the woman who's been by your side through all of this."

"Then that's what you'll be," Jolee said.

"Will the rest of you stand by me?" Revan asked, looking around. "Will you help me finish this mission against the Sith?"

"Revan was the most powerful opponent we have ever faced. I would be glad to die at her side," Canderous said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"If you don't want to be Revan, and if you don't really remember being her...then what does it matter?" Mission said. "I'll stick by you. You got me off Taris, you saved Zaalbar's life, you even helped my slimeball brother. You're my friend."

Juhani knelt. "You were the one I always admired," she said quietly. "I would've followed Revan anywhere. And now, as Malae, you saved me from the dark side. I will gladly return the favor."

"Carth?" Revan asked.

"Look, I'm not going to mince words," Carth began. "I sure as hell felt betrayed. By you, by Bastila, by Saul and Revan and Malak. But I also pulled you off that ship." He let a small smile come to his lips. "And the fact that you cut Malak's jaw off, well, that makes me think that maybe you weren't all bad. And you don't want to be bad now. So let's finish this."


	3. Chapter 3

She found herself in the women's dormitory, staring at the weapon on her bed.

Carth told her that he'd put it down there after he'd managed to lose the Sith. The saberstaff's smooth, polished hilt, so much like Bastila's, seemed like the only thing in the world. As she leaned against the side wall, her remaining hand on her forehead, she felt a ghostly sensation on the left side of her body - a hand that had once been dominant, and held a single, rough-hewn hilt in its grasp. She wondered where that blade had been left; perhaps it floated out in the space where her flagship had been.

She wondered where Bastila was.

Footsteps invaded her thoughts, and she turned her gaze to the doorway, spotting a short blue twi'lek. Her blue eyes darted towards the empty space on Malae's left side, but quickly went to her face.

"...Are you okay?" she asked, after a long moment of silence.

"I'm just..." Malae took the saberstaff from her bed, and crouched down to sit on the one below it, shifting Bastila's imprint. She turned the object over in her hand. "Just thinking."

Mission walked over and sat against the wall opposite Malae, crossing her legs. "About Bastila?"

Malae chuckled quietly. "That obvious?"

"Maybe the rest of the losers on this ship didn't notice, but nothing gets past me," Mission bragged, then caught herself and bit her lip.

Malae sighed and put the saber on her lap. "How'd you find out?"

"Let's just say I saw her a few more times than she really wanted me to. And it's not like you weren't already a shameless flirt. I put two and two together," Mission answered with a shrug. "Sorry."

"You've got nothing to be sorry about." Malae put her elbow on her knee and put her forehead to her palm. "You know what's strange?"

Mission cocked her head.

"Revan was left-handed, for one thing. And she used a single saber, purple, Juyo form. But I've always gone for the dual-blades, like her."

"You said she kept you alive with the force, right?" Mission interjected. "So maybe...maybe some of her got into you, replacing what Malak destroyed. I mean, I don't know the Force or nothing, but..."

"I was thinking the same thing. I wonder if - when I destroyed our bond, did I lose that, too? Of course I don't have the equipment to test it, but maybe I'd just slice my own arms off again if I tried to use this thing." Malae picked up the saber again, her finger hovering over the ignition switch. "How much of Malae is really just...pieces of Bastila and Revan, fused together?"

Mission let out a hiss. "Jeez. That's, uh, a pretty heavy question."

"Thanks, Mish, couldn't figure that out for myself."

"I know, sorry. I guess I just...I'm not much help. This is all way out of my area of expertise, you know? Nobody on Taris had to deal with having their mind wiped. Simpler without all you Jedi and Sith running around."

"You Jedi and Sith, huh?" Malae smirked. "Guess I really do qualify as both. And neither." She laughed to herself. "That's not something you get to say often."

"Well, I didn't mean it like that, but sure."

Malae laughed again, then went silent, staring at the saber as she held it in her lap. Mission made a decision, got up, and came over to hug her as hard as she could.

"I'm here for you, got it?" she mumbled into Malae's shoulder. "Even if I don't got the words."

Malae's arm wrapped awkwardly around Mission as they shared their height-stretching hug. "I know."

Mission pulled away. "We've gotta do something about that," she said, pointing to Malae's stump. "I don't care if you can't lightsaber fight anymore or whatever, you just gotta be able to hug people."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about where to get a prosthetic. We've got good stuff these days. I'd almost like to make one myself, though, and I don't really want to head all the way into the Core and give Malak more time to track and prepare for us," Malae said, wiping her eyes.

"The droids have been talking to each other in the swoop bay all day. You should go and see what they've come up with," Mission suggested.

"I think I will." Malae got up and replaced her saber on her bed. "Thanks, Mission. I'll see you in the commons for Pazaak later?"

"You know it."

* * *

Black, red, and gray. Every time Bastila closed her eyes, these colors invaded, coming in waves from somewhere far below her field of vision. The chill of the dark side gripped her stomach every time she tried to reach out to Malae, to reconnect the lingering thread of their bond. She'd felt it snap when Malae ignited her saber on the Leviathan, but she still felt - even _saw_ \- the tie lingering in the Force, flowing out from her body and desperately seeking her signature, frayed and reddening at the breaking point.

She wanted to keep her eyes closed, if only to spare herself the vision of the tiny brig on Malak's shuttle; she had had quite enough of it long before now, before they had arrived in whatever system held such a powerful dark taint. Yet meditating or even sleeping seemed impossible; she knew that if she kept trying to feel the Force's lighter side, she would only allow the taint further in. It was a hopeless search, and so she resolved to follow another Jedi teaching instead: live in the moment.

She opened her eyes and stared out at the four dim walls, the glow of her force cage, the blue light of the console that Malak was so fond of. The door that would never open for her, only to allow someone to come in and taunt her, or torture her. Even on the Leviathan, she'd never felt so powerless, not even able to draw upon the Force for anything. Not able to take strength from Malae through the bond, nor even find out what had happened to her, if she'd even _survived_ -

A Jedi doesn't cry, she reminded herself. But then again, there were many things that Jedi weren't supposed to do, and at that thought, an unwelcome image came to her mind:

_Malae stood alone at the railing, staring into the wroshyr trees while the celebration went on behind her, wookiees and Mission and Canderous and even Jolee throwing Czerka uniforms and weapons into the suspended fire pit. Carth had run off to tamper with the ship, it seemed, and while Bastila had been watching the celebrations while biting her tongue (she had the urge to tell them to be merciful but she understood that a wookiee paw to the face was not a desireable outcome to the situation either), Malae separated herself as soon as possible. It wasn't like her to be so quiet._

_Bastila wasn't the only one watching her. Juhani leaned against one of the huts and stared longingly at Malae, but didn't make a move to approach her. Bastila could feel shimmering waves of uncertainty and self-doubt coming off of Juhani, and wondered if she should talk to her, try to put her mind at ease with the Jedi's teachings. Yet there was something more curious - as Bastila tried to reach out through the bond to feel Malae's state of mind, she found a hard block, gaining a veritable cornucopia of nothing. No emotions, no thoughts. And as much as Bastila would have liked to believe that Malae was meditating, she knew that she was being actively blocked; that Malae was hiding something from her. And with her past in mind, this needed to be resolved immediately._

_And maybe she did look lonely over there._

_Bastila passed by the bonfire, ducking as a blaster went over her head and_ popped _as it touched the flames. As she approached Malae's spot, the sounds of civilization seemed to fade out very suddenly, leaving her with the wind rustling through the wroshyrs and a number of quiet birdsongs and tach calls. Malae clasped her hands under her chin, staring out into the forest but not seeing._

_Bastila cleared her throat._

" _Hey," Malae managed, her voice scratchy and hoarse._

" _You're blocking me," Bastila blurted out, before she realized she was already starting this on the wrong foot._

" _Maybe I don't always want you in my thoughts, all right? Maybe I wanted to be alone for once," Malae shot back, turning her head away. "I'm not getting in another argument with you. Go away."_

" _I'm sorry," Bastila said, walking up to the railing and placing herself beside Malae. "I just wanted to know what's wrong, and apparently I can't do that without confrontation."_

" _Never taught you social graces at the academy, did they?" Malae shifted her weight away from Bastila. "Certainly wasn't a part of that four-week course you called training, at any rate."_

" _You-" Bastila stopped herself before she raised her voice._ There is no emotion _, she reminded herself. "This isn't about me. You're not acting like yourself."_

" _What, you mean I'm not 'the most insufferable, arrogant, wilful woman you've ever met' right now? Isn't that a good thing?"_

" _Stop trying to change the subject!" Bastila snapped. "You think I don't know you're just trying to get me into a fight? You do this_ all the time _, whenever you're having your own troubles you try to turn the conversation to someone else so you don't have to be vulnerable for ten seconds!"_

" _What, so you can try and cram the 'wisdom of the Jedi' down my throat and not actually listen to me? Because, I mean, you do that whether or not I push you away, so I don't get why you want me to open up all of the sudden." Malae turned away. "I'm going back to the Hawk. T3 could use some maintenance."_

" _Malae, wait," Bastila said, reaching out and touching her shoulder. Malae turned to face her, and Bastila could see the red around her eyes. "Please. I won't say anything unless you want me to. Just tell me what's bothering you."_

" _For the sake of the mission, right?" Malae snorted._

" _For_ your _sake."_

_Malae paused, then turned back to the forest and put her palms on the railing. "All right." Bastila leaned against it, looking directly at Malae's face, waiting for her to start._

" _It's just...it's Jolee, I guess. While you were up here meditating after the fight in the village, I went back down to the Shadowlands and moved some things out of his house with him. We talked about...about why he's not a Jedi."_

" _He said that the Jedi spend too much time denying reality, and not enough dealing with it. He said that's what leads people to the dark side; realizing the Order had its own version of 'truth' that only lined up with a certain point of view. Like the Code: 'There is no emotion, there is peace.' He had some strong words for that one. There_ is _emotion, he told me, and denying our emotions as Jedi can only work for some people, or only up to a point. Dealing with them, accepting them, that's the path to understanding. If you pretend you're not prideful, you excuse your confidence by saying, 'oh, I'm not proud, I'm just_ right _,' and that's much more dangerous than knowing that you're proud. It's much harder to break that idea of pure righteousness than to swallow your pride when you know it's affecting you."_

" _I-" Bastila began, but Malae shushed her with "You said you wouldn't say anything," and she closed her mouth once again, even as objections filled her head._

" _So I started thinking about..." Malae sighed, her posture slackening. "About love, I guess. The Jedi say that they can't love, that it always leads to the dark side - more of that Jedi absolutism. But maybe..." Her right hand inched along the railing towards Bastila. "Maybe it's better to accept that we fall in love, and try to love well."_

" _But love is against the teachings of the Order for a reason," Bastila interrupted. "The whole point of love is passion and allowing your emotions to override logic. What you're suggesting is counter to what love_ is _."_

" _And there you go again, with your Jedi binary bantha crap," Malae said, pushing off from the railing. "There's more gray in this world than light or dark. At least to me. It's how we deal with the gray that shows if_ we _are light or dark, or gray ourselves." She turned back towards the dock. "I'm gonna go work on T3."_

_As Malae started to walk away, Bastila murmured "I'm sorry" under her breath. When she saw Malae freeze, she knew she'd been heard, and quickly pressed on, "I know it's hard for you to accept the teachings of the Order, but they're all I know, all that have ever been there for me. I...I suppose I should be more open to what you think sometimes. So that I can show you_ why _I believe as I do."_

" _That might be nice."_

" _And please, don't push me away again. I - I worry about you, and not just because you're powerful. I want you to feel the peace that the teachings bring to me. And I think, to do that, we have to be honest with each other. So can you..." Bastila pushed slightly on their bond, and felt the block dissolving as Malae's fists clenched. She gasped as tears suddenly stung at her eyes, an exhaustion suddenly forcing itself into her limbs as the Force flowed from Malae into her._

" _Malae..." she breathed, suddenly feeling all that Malae had been hiding from her._

" _I'll be okay." Bastila felt a spark of warmth enter the stream of emotion. "I'll figure it out. I just need to do a little mechanical meditation. See you on the ship, sweetheart."_

_As Malae left her behind, Bastila sank into the railing, barely even really standing up as she tried to crush the insistent cold dripping sensation in her stomach._ There is no emotion _, she repeated, and then,_ Jolee had strong words for that one.

_She barely even noticed as Juhani approached her, only looking up when her harsh tones asked, "How is she?"_

_Bastila felt a stab of...something, in her heart, some primal force that made her want to snap at Juhani, tell her to mind her own business. She squeezed her eyes closed for a brief moment, making Juhani cock her head. "I think she will be," Bastila answered diplomatically. "She needs time, and meditation. Well, her version of meditation, anyway."_

_Juhani chuffed. "You mean she is going to get grease and oil all over herself and feel happy about it."_

" _I suppose so."_

* * *

Carth slowly eased the Hawk into a path around Yavin, letting the simple mechanical actions of moving the throttle and typing co-ordinates fill his thoughts. Otherwise, well, things would get ugly again.

He heard her approaching before she said a word. She seemed fundamentally off-balance since the duel on the Leviathan, unable to perform her usual sneaking routine on him - always tapping him on the shoulder or getting right next to his ear before loudly asking their ETA. It felt odd to hear her clunking armored footsteps, to see her simply slip into the co-pilot's chair in place of Bastila. To see her without a smile for him, really.

"Should be getting there in about five minutes," he said, just to fill the air.

Malae didn't respond for a time, staring out the window at the great red gas giant. "It's beautiful out here, isn't it?" she murmured. "Not just the view, but the place. There's so much history here. And..." She closed her eyes. "I get the feeling more history will be made here, too."

"Seeing the future, are we?"

"Better than seeing the past."

"Suppose you got that right."

They didn't speak again until the landing struts sank into the old supply depot's dock, as Malae rose to her feet.

"I shouldn't be long. With me, Suvam, and the droids on the case, I should get back to two arms in no time." She gave him a smile, and he let out a small sigh. But...

"I'll come with you," he said.

"You really don't need to. It'll just be a bunch of people standing around a droid arm and fritzing with it in a way that you won't understand. Boring."

"I don't know, I just want-"

"To keep an eye on me?" Malae raised a critical eyebrow. "Really, Onasi? We're not done with that yet?"

"It's not that," Carth said, getting up from his seat. "I've got a bad feeling about this. The station's energy profile is just - it's a bit wobbly, compared to last time. I've been around enough to know when a hunch will come in handy."

"All right," Malae said with a shrug. "No judgement if you leave two hours in."

The two of them rounded up the droids, with Malae searching for T3 and Carth sent to deal with HK-47. While HK expressed his dislike of being ordered around by the "flying meatbag" instead of his former and current master, he eventually deigned to come down the loading ramp and meet up with the other two.

Carth kept his hands on his blasters as they cycled through the seemingly endless airlocks, the image of the station's energy profile turning over in his memory. Something was definitely off. Hopefully it was just Suvam trying out one of his inventions on his own station, but if not...

As the final airlock opened, Carth heard a distinctive Rodian gasp, then a babble of Huttese that was just fast enough to be incomprehensible. Carth stepped over T3 as Malae explained the situation to Suvam, peering at the other entrances to the Rodian's little shop.

He saw the distinctive waves of stealth generators.

He drew his blasters just as several Trandoshans popped into being around him - and one right beside him, putting a blade under his throat.

He couldn't pretend to understand their language, but judging by Malae's attempt to use the Force, things weren't going well. HK-47 seemed pleased with the development, however, urging his master to allow him to use his assassination protocols.

Then Malae's eyes darkened. "You've made a mistake," she announced, and raised her hand into the air.

Carth leapt back as lightning arced across the entire room, directly into the head of the Trandoshan who'd been holding him at blade-point. He stared in horror as the creature convulsed and screamed, sparks flying from his eyes as he collapsed. The roar of the storm died down after only a few seconds, and Malae stood defiant, the droids and Carth and Suvam all standing away from her.

One Trandoshan remained, just in front of the picture window that showed the world Suvam plundered. Malae approached him as he tried to rise to his feet, and kicked the disruptor from his grasp. She took him by the throat, and lifted him.

"You will tell your employers that this facility is destroyed. Am I clear?" she hissed. The alien let out a string of guttural noises, which seemed to satisfy her. She dropped him to the ground. "Get out," she said, and he limped off through the other airlock.

"What the hell was that?!" Carth asked as soon as the door closed behind him. "I may not be a Jedi, but I know a Sith technique when I see one."

"And what other options did we have?" Malae snapped. "I suppose I could've frozen them, so you and the droids could cut them down with blaster fire. Or I could've thrown them against the wall so they would break all the bones in their bodies, and then you and the droids could cut them down with blaster fire. If you survived without getting your throat slit." She paused, and took a deep breath, then looked Carth in the eye. "It was the only way that I was _sure_ you wouldn't get hurt."

"Statement: I agree with the Master in this scenario, flying meatbag. She chose the most efficient course of action available to her," HK-47 chimed in.

"Yeah, I don't really want your support on matters of morality," Malae said. "But I don't have a lightsaber, Carth. I'm not exactly at my peak. So I did something that couldn't be resisted with a strong-willed mind, something physical."

"You -" Carth let out an annoyed grunt. "You can justify it all you want, but you made them suffer."

"I'm sure blaster fire feels much better than lightning, Carth. Next time I'll consider it," Malae spat. "You know what? I'm not having this argument. I'm getting my arm replaced. Get back to the ship, Carth. You'll just be a distraction."

Carth spun on his heel and marched back out the airlock, stuffing his blasters back in their holsters. He'd see what the two Jedi on the ship thought about _that._


	4. Chapter 4

"Warning: Master, if you do not stop making spot adjustments to every servo in that arm, Suvam is likely to shoot you in the face, forcing me to enact assassination protocols and terminate him. He is getting very agitated," HK-47 intoned, standing behind the Rodian.

"I am not!" Suvam objected in Huttese as he slid back a panel on Malae's new arm. "You are doing what you feel is best, I am sure."

"Counterpoint: Your eyes are even larger than usual and the tension in your fingers has raised forty-three percent since implantation of the arm and the master's continual interruptions began. Thinly-Veiled Threat: Do not contradict me further, defenseless meatbag."

"Enough, HK," Malae sighed, stopping herself from adjusting a small exposed gear on her new elbow. "Sorry, Suvam. Let me know when you've got it powered. I'll adjust the rest of it myself later."

Suvam carefully reached his suction-cupped fingers into the hole left by the sliding panel, and with a grunt, Malae suddenly felt those fingers crawling around inside of her anatomy. She yelped, yanking her arm away and bringing Suvam against her own body in the process, his fingers still jammed inside the arm.

" _Now_ I am agitated," he informed her as he wrestled the arm back to the table that Malae sat beside. He carefully extracted his fingers while T3 let out an amused series of beeps from Malae's side.

"Translation: The short one thinks your injuries are amusing. Suggestion: Perhaps it is time to wipe his memory," HK-47 said.

T3 offered him a much deeper whirr. "Enough, boys," Malae said. "Sorry again, Suvam, just a bit of a shock to the system."

"No harm done. Well, certainly no more harm than the lizards would have brought to me," Suvam said with a shrug. He slid the panel back into place. "All done. Try it."

Malae stood up and experimentally clasped and unclasped her new metal fingers. They were expertly made, pulled from the limbs of a surgical apparatus and carefully fitted to the wrist of a protocol unit, attached to the heavy upper arm of a battle droid, and all controlled through the neural interface of a top-of-the-line Coruscant implant - Suvam refused to mention where he got that one. She brought all five fingers to a point and smiled, then twisted the wrist around rapidly, feeling the Force flow through the machine. She picked up a spare gear from Suvam's table and flitted it through her fingers like a coin.

"Suggestion: Perhaps we can arrange for my own fingers to be upgraded in such a manner. Complaint: I have never been able to wield the more exciting close-range weapons in my operational lifespan," HK-47 stated.

"Because if there's one thing we need it's a vibroblade-wielding droid," Malae said, smiling as she set down the gear.

"Clarification: I meant lightsabers, master. The Jedi and Sith wield them with such pleasing results."

"Yeah, and why don't you ask for two more arms and a brain like a real boy while you're at it," Malae scoffed. "You're fine just the way you are, HK. I think you could kill a Sith or two."

"Proud Retort: Master, please. As though I haven't already."

Malae interlocked her two sets of fingers, smiling at their contact, the way they seemed to slot into each other like a natural fit. She closed her eyes and breathed, feeling the past few days vanish into the ether like the bodies of the Trandoshans out of the airlock (that duty had been HK-47's, naturally). For the first time since the Leviathan, she willingly reached out to the Force.

She opened her eyes and looked at Suvam. "What's in that bag over there?" she asked, pointing to a sack lying on a chair across the shop from her.

"Just what I found on my latest trip," Suvam said. "Why?"

"There's something in there that's _radiating_ positive energy. I feel more at peace just looking at it," Malae explained, walking over to the bag. She reached in with her new hand, and closed her eyes. She finally gripped the edges of something hard, with straight edges in a repeating pattern. As she pulled it out, she opened her eyes to look at it: a beautiful solid cyan crystal, glittering with red and white spots in the dim lights of Suvam's little station and the reflected image of Yavin.

"Oh, that?" Suvam said dismissively. "Just a pretty rock I found in some museum or something in one of the Massassi temples. You can have it if you want. Pay me for the droid arm and I'll consider it even. And you get a discount for the life-saving, of course."

Malae produced a credit chip from one of the pouches on her belt and handed it to Suvam, running her mechanical thumb over the crystal all the while. "That's twenty-five thousand. Should cover all the parts you scavenged."

Suvam laughed, a strange sound from his proboscis. "Big swoop racer wants to give me more than any droid's worth? I won't complain."

"Take care of yourself, Suvam," Malae said, finally threading her new arm through the empty sleeve on her jumpsuit and zipping it up. She swung the metal breastplate over her shoulder as she turned to face the exit.

"I don't need to, now! I have you! Although you could leave me that T3 unit, he seems like a good one," Suvam said.

"Not a chance in hell."

"Very well, then. Goodbye, Jedi swoop racer friend!" Suvam waved as Malae and the droids started to make their way through the airlock system, back to the Hawk.

As she entered the cargo hold, Juhani stepped in front of her. "Carth tells me that you have used Force lightning again," she said, putting a hand on her hip. "You know that it is forbidden."

Malae started to speak, but she was interrupted by "Interrupting Mockery: Ah, the fuzzy meatbag also has opinions to share on how to best save her own life! Perhaps soon the angry meatbag, the smelly meatbag, the juvenile meatbag, and the decrepit meatbag shall all join in, and we shall have a compendium of useless meatbags to tell the Master what to do at all times so that she may get nothing done at all."

"Silence, machine!" Juhani barked.

"Mockery: 'I ran away to a grove full of dogs and turned to the Dark Side, so now I know everything there is to know about being a Jedi!' Suggestion: Master, you should go about your business. I will delay the meatbags."

"HK, switch off your vocabulator," Malae snapped. "I don't need your protection or whatever it is you think you're doing for me. Go work on the bike with Canderous."

"Statement: I shall do so, Master, but I will continue to discourage lesser meatbags from speaking with you."

As the assassin droid stalked off, Malae turned back to Juhani. "I-We'll talk about it later, all right? Look." She held the crystal up for Juhani to examine.

"What is that?" she asked, cocking her head and peering all around the crystal. Malae smiled as Juhani's pupils widened.

"I think I can put it in my lightsaber. It will be...calming for me, I think. I'll be happy to talk after that, okay? Carth might not have told you the full story."

Juhani looked into Malae's eyes for a moment, and even without using the Force, Malae could feel the ache in her, an ache she'd known was there from the start. But all she said was a quiet "Very well," and Malae moved past her towards the women's dormitories. She took her saber from her bunk, put her back against the far wall, and sat, crossing her legs and placing the saber on her lap.

She put her hands on her knees, palms up. As her weapon slowly drifted into the air and began disassembling itself, her mind went blank, only the movements of the saber's parts intruding on silence.

When the saber finally came back together and floated back down her lap, she opened her eyes to see Juhani sitting across from her, her back to the closed door, her legs crossed and palms up, mirroring her image. As her yellow eyes opened, she made eye contact with Malae, and quickly turned away.

"I felt such peace coming from you," she murmured. "I have - I haved missed that. It always comforted me, to feel you meditating. I've never been very good at it."

Malae chuckled. "It's all right, Juhani. I'm glad you're here."

Juhani bit her lip, a canine protruding out in a way that Malae always thought was cute. "I...I think it is time I told you the truth."

Malae braced herself, laying her saber and the old violet crystal to the side and taking a deep breath.

"Jolee, he does not fear you turning to the dark side. When Carth came to him, he just laughed and said that they were going to die anyway, why did it matter how it was done? But, I, I have..." She swallowed, her hands shaking as she turned them over to grip her knees. "I cannot help but..."

As Juhani struggled for words, Malae rose and crossed the room. She offered a hand to Juhani, pulling her up. Malae whispered, "I know, I know," as they embraced.

"I am just, I am so afraid for you, I never want to lose you," Juhani said, her small claws digging into Malae's back. "It is not the way of the Jedi."

"That doesn't mean it's wrong."

Juhani drew back, eyes shimmering with tears. "What-what are you-"

"I love someone too, Juhani. And for a long time, it seemed like we could never be together," Malae explained, unable to look her in the eye. "But I learned to take strength from it. Love and compassion can bring you power, not in the way the Sith take power from emotion, but it can strengthen your resolve, your empathy." Malae took a breath, then managed to look at Juhani again. "I learned to love her and protect her, without needing anything in return, without making it about me. It drove me to become better so that I could show that love to everyone and everything around me. It taught me to love without selfishness."

Malae leaned in and gave Juhani a soft, slight kiss. "I may not love you in the way you want," she whispered, closing the distance between them again, putting her head on Juhani's shoulder. "But love is my strongest weapon."

"You and Bastila-" Juhani blurted.

"Yes." Malae finally broke the embrace, putting her hands on Juhani's shoulders. "And that fear you have? It's in me, too. I couldn't sleep the first night, worrying about her. But I try not to let it control me. And I...I regret that it did, when I tried to save Carth. It was fear that drove me to use the Force storm. I only wanted to disable them, but I let it go too far. And I will learn from that. I won't deny my fear; but I will not let it control me ever again." She caught Juhani's eye as she tried to look away. "All right?"

"Yes," Juhani said, "Yes, I think I can-I can accept that. And I will try to follow what you've said...Master."

"Don't call me that," Malae chided. "I'm not your master. I'm not sure I'm even a Jedi. I'm your friend, and someone you love. Don't hide it all behind titles."

Juhani sniffed, then smirked as Malae stepped back. "Yes, Master."

"Oh, get out of here, go meditate or something," Malae said, giving her a playful shove as the door opened behind her. She turned and held her right arm up, calling the violet crystal into her hand. Before Juhani left, she pressed it into her hand.

"What is this for?" Juhani asked, gripping the crystal between two claws.

"It's up to you what you do with it. I thought you might want it - and it's been through enough that tossing it in the cargo hold seems disrespectful."

"Very well," Juhani said quietly, and turned away.

As Juhani left, Malae called her saber to her. As she thumbed the ignition switch, she smiled to see one end fill the room with its brilliant cyan hue.

* * *

"Welcome to Lehon," Malak said, pushing Bastila ahead of him down the G-Wing's loading ramp. "Your stay will not be pleasant."

"I suppose that force cage was your version of hospitality?" Bastila shot back, trying to twist her fingers inside of the restraints. A chill ran down her spine as Malak's fingers touched the back of her neck. She heard a slight crackle, and then a brief jolt of pain shot down her back, forcing her to the ground.

"You wish you could do that to me," he hissed, leaning down next to her ear. "If only you had my power, you could break free from here, rejoin her, and crush the Sith under your heel. Isn't that what you want?"

Bastila grunted and stood, looking him square in the eye. He cackled. "Already learning the price of defiance, I see. I doubt Revan could ever curb your tongue, and yet here you are, silent."

"Don't you dare-"

Malak put out two fingers and sent a bolt of lightning into Bastila's chest, throwing her backward into the temple wall. As she rose, she could feel the crack that had formed in the back of the restraining box on her hands.

"I believed I had made myself clear. Perhaps more lessons are in order," Malak mused. "Come, Jedi. You haven't even reached your cell and already you are injuring yourself."

Bastila pulled her hands apart, drawing on the Force to break the restraints in two, sending one piece at Malak's face to distract him. She ran at him, thrust her right hand out, pulled his lightsaber from his belt, and ignited it as soon as it reached her grasp. He stopped the piece of metal in mid-air and sent it towards Bastila, but she cut through it and had nearly reached him by the time he managed to fling his hands out in front of him and begin channeling lightning.

She stopped in her tracks and held the saber so that it would absorb the attack, watching the lightning twist itself around the red blade, threatening to overload it. She snarled over the lashing electricity, glaring into Malak's eyes.

"Come now," he goaded. "Send it back at me. Free yourself. Use all that hate and fear and anger and send it through the Force, right into my chest. Finish what Revan started."

Bastila screamed in fury, thrusting the saber forward as she prepared to use her will as a conduit - but the weapon burst, crystals and pieces of shrapnel flying out even as the tendrils of Malak's hate reached out and gripped her. She let out a cry of agony as the electricity wracked her body, sending her to her hands and knees, and finally convulsing on her back as Malak came ever closer.

It seemed to be an hour before the pain receded, or maybe it was only seconds - combined with the taint of this temple, Malak's lightning seemed to drown out all sense of time, all feelings save for suffering. Finally, as she lay on her stomach, broken and sobbing, Malak stopped. He grabbed her by one filth-encrusted braid and forced her to look at him.

"The dark side could have given you the power to slay me, but you took too long to accept it, and faltered. And now, my gifted little Jedi, I will break you," he promised.

He yanked her up off the ground and forced her to march to a tiny, unlit stone room at the bottom of the temple, one end filled with rubble. There, he thrust her against the wall, and left her to herself as the heavy stone pillars interlocked behind him.

She clutched her knees to her chest and sobbed, blinded by the dark side. Even her attempts to slip into memory, to see something that wasn't this, were failing. The times of peaceful meditation with Malae on the Hawk refused to return to her, and in their place-

" _Taris! It was Taris that my father fled to, Taris that Malak destroyed, all for you and your precious Bastila!"_

_Bastila heard Juhani's anguished yell from the boarding ramp, and considered heading back out to the cantina - but she had just ended things with her mother on such a good note that it seemed like it was best to leave it where it was. Carefully, she started easing her way up the ramp, trying not to make too much noise - and trying to listen._

_Malae's quiet tones were too faint to make out, but Juhani's voice soon lowered, and eventually all Bastila could hear as she attempted to meditate in the women's dormitory were whispers. And then, a most curious sound._

_Deciding that meditating was not to be done right here and now, Bastila chose to investigate the rumbling noise that seemed to be coming from the commons. As she walked into the room, she glanced to the right, and froze._

_In Juhani's alcove, Bastila saw Malae and Juhani sharing a close, strong embrace, their heads on each others shoulders, Juhani's claws in Malae's back. And Juhani was_ purring _._

_Bastila felt sick. A lump formed in her throat, her stomach dropped, and she found her fists clenching in anger at the sight, and an equally strong urge to run, to never see this image again. She ran back to the dormitories, unable to stop herself, even knowing that her boots were making an awful racket as she pounded back in and closed the door behind her. She put her back against the wall and her hand over her face, trying to stop these nonsensical feelings, these completely forbidden feelings. She couldn't, she couldn't even do that, what kind of Jedi can't control a simple emotion like jealousy, even normal people could do that, they managed it all the time, they had long and fulfilling relationships with each other by getting rid of it, they-_

_The door opened._

_Bastila silently begged the Force to urge them to be silent, to get whatever they needed and go, but Mission was not easily dissuaded._

" _Bastila?" she said quietly, touching her shoulder. "Are you okay?"_

_She could have just reached into Mission's mind and forced her to leave, could have prevented the shame to come if she had just once used her emotions to fuel the Force. But instead, she had lowered her hand, and revealed her tear-stained face, and felt a hot wave of embarrassment come over her as she realized she'd been crying._

" _I'm fine," she lied._

" _Yeah, uh-huh, I can tell by the way you sounded like a plague victim when you said that," Mission said, narrowing her eyes. "Come on. I'm not stupid, don't treat me like I am."_

" _It's nothing," Bastila said, turning away from Mission's piercing gaze. "Just...it's my mother."_

" _Malae said you were getting along well with her when she left. What happened?"_

" _I-nothing happened, I-"_

_But Bastila could come up with nothing, and she felt she could_ hear _the gears turning in Mission's head, and dreaded the next words she knew she would hear: "You saw her and Juhani, didn't you? You're jealous!"_

" _That is- that is absolutely - a Jedi would never-"_

" _I knew it, I knew it, when they told me they heard you running in here, I just-"_

_Bastila turned and grabbed Mission by the throat. Mission's eyes widened in fear as her gloating was choked out of her. "Enough!" Bastila growled, shoving her backward and releasing her grip. "Leave me alone!"_

" _Yeah, that's real Jedi of you," Mission spat. "Choking a fourteen-year-old girl just because you can't face the fact that-"_

" _Leave!" Bastila screamed, and Mission quickly turned and ran out of the doorway. Bastila quickly sealed and locked the door behind her, then slumped against it, her own behavior repeating itself endlessly in her head, and she knew that she had failed the Masters' test, and she knew she didn't deserve to be called a Jedi._

And she knew, sitting alone in a dark stone room with burns covering her body and tears running down her cheeks, that she didn't deserve to be called a Jedi.

* * *

Carth wasn't Force-sensitive. At least, he'd never been called Force-sensitive, no Jedi had ever said he was 'strong in the Force', and he couldn't read people's emotions without at least looking at them.

Yet as he stared through the window at Korriban, he found he couldn't keep his nerve. A bad feeling, he'd probably call it, but it felt like more than that; like whatever was waiting down there was ancient and fundamentally _hated_ him and everyone on his ship. He could barely keep his hands steady on the controls, slowly maneuvering the Hawk down into the tiny speck of civilization on the planet. He'd half-expected the docking authorities to report him, that word had gotten around that the Ebon Hawk held Darth Revan; but the authorities seemed to think he was just a common smuggler, which was fine by him.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Malae tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and the ship swung drunkenly to one side while Malae laughed.

"Don't do that!" he yelled, correcting his course and staring furiously at the planet's surface. "I'm trying to fly!"

"You never seemed to mind before," Malae said as she slid into the co-pilot's seat and put her feet up.

"You're certainly chipper," Carth said, eyeing her suspiciously.

"There's no point in worrying right now. I can't do anything to help Bastila," she explained, her eyes darkening slightly. "But I can go down there and find the Star Forge. The data we have is almost enough to triangulate its location. I know that this is the end of the search."

"Glad you're so confident." Carth tried very hard to ignore Malae's curious look.

"What?" she asked at last.

"I'm not comfortable with any of this."

"Is this about Yavin?"

"Reading my mind?"

"Carth." Malae put her feet down and swung the chair to face him. "I tried to talk to you about this two days ago and all you did was lock yourself up in here. I know when someone's stewing."

"That a talent you had as Revan, too?"

"I didn't mean to kill them!" Malae shouted suddenly. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, all right? All I wanted to do was disable them, make sure they couldn't hurt you. I didn't think death was inevitable, but that's what I told myself - and you - after I did it because - because I was afraid of my own power." She sighed, touching her new fingers to her forehead. "This is hard enough without you constantly watching me and waiting for a betrayal, berating me for every moment of weakness or fear." She looked over at him. "I wish we could be friends again."

"Well, I'm sorry, but it's hard on me too, you know? When I see you using the same tactics Revan used, it's hard for me not to see _her,_ " Carth explained as the Hawk started entering Korriban's atmosphere. "And when you lashed out at me...I guess the worst part was that you were right, in a way. And I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to support a Sith."

"You didn't want to be Saul."

"Yeah."  
The sound of the landing struts hitting the dock filled the silence between them as Malae stood up. "I'm going out there alone this time," she said, stretching her back. "I get the feeling this one will take a while, and it'll look suspicious if I have people following me around all the time."

She walked over to his side of the cockpit and looked down at him. "So I want you to trust me, all right? We need to try and understand each other. I don't want to fight with you anymore."

Carth looked away. "I'll try. That's all I can say."

"That's all I'm asking. Keep the ship safe."

As Malae left the cockpit, Carth leaned back in his chair and started waiting for the bad news to roll in.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as Malae stepped off the boarding ramp, a green twi'lek man made a beeline for her. She braced herself, gripping the saber on her hip, but he gave her a sharp-toothed smile.

"You are the captain of the Ebon Hawk, yes?" he said, his Huttese tones low and almost slurred. Malae knew this tactic - he was speaking so that anyone passing by would have no idea what he was saying, especially since it wasn't in Basic.

"No, just a passenger," she replied in the same manner.

"My information says otherwise. Unlike the rest of Korriban, I am active out in the galaxy...and things make it to the ears of me and my associates." He grinned. "Welcome to Korriban, Lord."

Malae almost pulled her saber, but then thought better of it as she saw an impatient dockworker approaching.

"You're mistaken," she said, loudly and in Basic. "I've just come from Dantooine to join the Sith, and booked passage with this Exchange lot. You want the captain, go inside. Can't guarantee he'll like you, though."

"Understood," the twi'lek said, winking as he walked up the ramp. Malae prayed that Carth wouldn't do anything stupid as she approached the dockworker.

"You'll have to pay the fee if you want to get any further into this compound, Jedi," the human said, putting a hand on his hip.

"The Sith would love to have me," Malae said, waving her arm. "They wouldn't like to hear I was delayed."

"Ah, I see. The Sith would love to have you. I suppose I shouldn't delay you," the dockworker repeated. "Very well, here's your pass into Dreshdae. You should go and see Yuthura Ban if you're interested in the Academy. She hangs around the cantina these days, waiting for recruits who come in from the docks."

"Thank you very much," Malae said.

The first thing she saw once she left the dock was a young man in a Sith uniform, standing before two twi'leks and another human, all of them cowering in fear. As she passed by, she heard the Sith yelling something about them never being _true_ Sith, and winced as she heard the distinctive crackle of Force lightning - but she could not turn back, and could not show any compassion. Not in the heart of the old Sith empire. She kept a hand on her saber nonetheless, latching onto the crystal through the Force to keep her steady as she wandered the halls of Dreshdae, following signs for the cantina.

She spotted the sign for it ("The Drunk Side", naturally) just down a ramp, but as she headed towards it a blond woman stepped in her way.

"Look at this. Another fallen Jedi, coming to Korriban thinking she'll just march right in and get to be Sith," she mocked. "Do you really think we'll let a cripple into our ranks?"

Malae methodically put a hand out, placed it on the Sith's shoulder, and shoved her to the side. A couple of students in similar garb laughed from the sidelines.

"Looks like someone's finally standing up to you, Lashowe," one goaded.

"You think you can just do whatever you want here?" Lashowe said, shoving back and putting a hand on her lightsaber. "We're Sith. We hold pathetic little hopefuls like you in our hands."

Malae rolled her eyes. "Out of the way," was all she offered.

Lashowe drew and ignited her saber, dropping into a pathetic, shaky Shii-Cho stance. "You don't give orders to me!"

Malae sighed, then waved her right hand and ripped the saber straight from Lashowe's hand, into the wall. It smashed into several pieces, which rolled lazily down the ramp as Lashowe stuttered.

"When you build your next one, make it from more study material," Malae suggested, again shoving past her as her fellows started laughing. As she walked down the ramp, she noticed a purple, tattooed twi'lek who hadn't been there before, standing in the doorway to the cantina and smiling.

"It's not often I see someone walk these halls without fear," she said as Malae approached. "I take it you're a hopeful for the academy?"

"Do I look like I'm on vacation?" Malae replied.

"I suppose not." The twi'lek cocked her head. "You're a fallen Jedi, then."

"Funny how you say 'fallen'," Malae observed. "You'd think that 'seen the light' would be more appropriate. Or maybe 'seen the dark'? You shouldn't let the Jedi control the language."

"Forceful," the twi'lek hissed through her teeth. "I like it. You don't know who I am, do you?"

"I didn't, but I'm starting to think you're Yuthura Ban." Malae put a hand on her hip. "Am I right?"

"You are." Yuthura put a finger to her lips. "I think you're just what the academy needs. The hopefuls this year are a drab, pathetic lot, sadists and bullies rather than people like you and I."

"And what are 'you and I' like?"

"We know the real meaning of power and control. The meaning of dominance, and what strength it brings. Look at her." Yuthura nudged her head towards Lashowe, still steaming at the top of the ramp and trying to gather up the fragments of her lightsaber. "Simple killing is a warrior's job. It brings no strength to you when someone is so far beneath you. But when you force them to submit, to understand their own weakness, they are driven to become stronger. And eventually, that strength will come to match or exceed yours, if they are worthy. If they strike you down, you have brought more strength to the galaxy and the Sith; if you kill them, you have grown in strength by challenging yourself."

As Yuthura's admittedly smokey voice rolled over her, Malae felt like she could speak those words with her, like her own mouth had formed them long ago and she was just now hearing the echo. She fought the urge to shake her head and clear the sensation, instead just making eye contact with Yuthura and giving her a curt nod. "Exactly."

"That's what I like to hear." Yuthura put an arm around Malae's shoulders. "I think you and I will accomplish a _lot_ together this year."

* * *

Bastila didn't know how long she spent alone in the dark. The taint of the temple made it impossible to tell how much time passed in the blackness of her cell. Only when the interlocking stone columns slid apart to reveal Malak did she realize that she must have missed several meals, and the ache in her stomach was not all from her emotions running rampant.

As her eyes adjusted to the bright fluorescent lights behind Malak, she saw that he'd had his jaw replaced again, and found herself grateful that she'd no longer have to stare at the wreckage she and Revan had left. He stared down at her for a minute, yellow eyes sweeping across her body and the charred holes his attacks had left in her tunic.

"Get up."

Bastila stood and wiped the grime and tears off her face, steeling herself. She would not be weak in front of Malak again, but she knew she was no match for him, not in this state.

"Still strong enough to stand. We shall see how long that lasts. Come."

She stepped out into the hallway, turrets on either side tracking her movements. Malak led her upstairs, then down a long hallway until they came to a simple angled stone slab, restraint cuffs locked into it, and two Sith acolytes standing beside it. Malak shoved her towards them and they took her by force, locking the cuffs around her wrists and ankles. "Leave us," Malak said, and the acolytes bowed and walked out of the room.

Bastila locked eyes with Malak as he put a hand on his chin. "Tell me, Bastila," he began at last, "How are you planning to escape?"

"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "If I did have an escape plan, why would I tell you?"

"Or do you expect a rescue?" Malak continued, pacing in front of her. "Perhaps you believe that Revan will come find you here, and take you away. That she will want you badly enough to fight through every inch of this temple to find you. Is that it?"

Bastila said nothing, and Malak stopped his pacing. He paused for a moment, then held out a hand. Bastila felt that same hot finger, probing inside her head, and she gasped in pain as it grasped and shoved itself into the cracks and crevices of her mind. It seemed impossible to force it out, even as she pushed with all her will against it; she knew now where Malak's real talent lie, and how he had so easily managed to wipe Revan's mind from so far away. She squeezed her eyes shut and balled her hands into fists, trying desperately to stop his invasion.

At last it receded, and the tension left her muscles as she tried to breathe in. Malak started laughing.

"You may not admit it yourself, but that's exactly what you want," he proclaimed. "Your love for her writhes in your mind like a worm, wrapped in self-hatred and fear." He chuckled. "She is not coming, Bastila. She always abandons those who slight her, those who she claims to love. As I have told you, it is her nature."

"You're wrong," Bastila blurted out, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. "She's not Revan, and she'll never leave me."

"Did she tell you that? I have heard those words from her before," Malak said. "Tell me, do you know of General Tekal?"

Bastila remained silent, but an image came to her - an older Jedi Knight she had known on Dantooine, always with a sense of purpose and deep thought about her, always reading in the libraries below the main enclave.

"Revan always wanted her for the war. It took some convincing. She was well on her way to Masterhood, to becoming the next great Jedi mind. But she saw the threat the Mandalorians posed." Malak leered at Bastila. "After Dxun, she came aboard our ship. Revan promised that she'd never leave her behind again. She'd seen what Tekal could accomplish, on that hellish jungle moon. And eventually, she claimed to love her."

Bastila felt a pang of what she now recognized as jealousy, and tried to bury it. But something must have shown on her face, for Malak laughed at her.

"Do you know what they call Karyn Tekal now?" he asked. "The Jedi Exile. After Malachor, she wanted to return to the Jedi, face what she'd done. And Revan refused to go with her. Revan left her alone to deal with the guilt and the Jedi, and went off to search for the Star Forge. She wanted nothing more than vengeance against the Republic for their weakness and stupidity. _That_ is who Revan is. Revan cares nothing for those she uses, even as she calls them friends and lovers. The moment you do something against her wishes, she will turn on you." Malak traced the line of his mechanical jaw. "Do you think she will forgive you for hiding her true identity?"

Bastila turned her head away, a lump rising in her throat despite herself.

"Face it, Bastila. You are alone here. Only your own strength will free you. And only the dark side will give you that strength."

"Never," Bastila spat, swallowing and turning back to him.

Malak shot a bolt of lightning into her chest. She groaned and strained against her bonds, drawing on the Force to try and rip them from the slab - but the Force here didn't even seem to react to her will, and all she could sense was the burn of Malak's anger.

"Can you feel it?" he asked, snapping his hand back as she moaned in pain. "The sheer physical _power_ of it? There is no stronger emotion than anger, no greater weapon. Anger gave us strength when we were nothing more than savages, hunting animals with spears. And you sit there and claim to be above it all. I know you're angry and afraid. You can hide nothing from me. Simply strike back at me. Prove your worth."

Bastila didn't respond, so he began again, throwing lightning into her body as she cried out in pain. Her fists clenched, and finally, she threw her pain and anger into the Force itself and ripped the restraints straight from the slab, spewing dust into Malak's eyes and forcing him to stop his torture. She flung herself bodily from the slab, heading straight for Malak - but he caught her by the throat in mid-air, chuckling.

"Well done." And he slammed her head into the stone wall.

_She'd heard the news long before Malae arrived on the Hawk; she'd calmed the great Firaxan shark that the Selkath called 'the Progenitor', and saved it from the intrusions of the Republic. Even as she sat on her bed, trying to meditate past her thoughts, she knew that she would never have done the same. She would have poisoned the thing. She would have thought it merely a mindless beast, and the Star Map far more important than its survival._

_Again and again it taunted her: Malae was a better Jedi than she could ever be. In the weeks since Kashyyyk, Bastila had only been weakening, while Malae had given up her love seemingly without struggle. Bastila could no longer stop herself from staring, from feeling warm and safe and protected and frustrated and longing whenever she was around Malae, and that was why she was here, on this ship, instead of helping her find the map. Peace seemed impossible so long as she felt such passion in her presence._

_Her attempt to center herself was doomed to failure the moment she felt Malae boarding the ship, light and peace radiating through the Force, despite Bastila trying to block her off from the bond. Even without the direct link, she knew that Malae was throwing off waves of positive energy, that Jolee and Juhani could feel it, and that she herself was nothing more than a black hole of self-hatred and denial._

_Bastila watched her through the Force as she made her way to the cargo hold. She wanted nothing more than to block her out, to forget her entirely, to run back to Dantooine and stay far away from this temptation and the ache in her chest. But she couldn't. And finally, she opened her eyes and let go of every word of the Jedi code. She had already failed the Masters, she had already failed this new version of Revan. She had succeeded where Bastila faltered._

Why not? _she thought suddenly._ If I am already lost, then I might as well indulge myself, get what I want. She still wants me. I know she does. I will take her down with me.

_It felt so freeing to rise from her bed, ready to take Malae's heavenly presence down to her level, to drown that which made her feel so inadequate and powerless. She strode through the Hawk with a purpose and certainty in her steps that hadn't been there since Tatooine, despite the rumbling as the ship prepared to take off. Even as she stood before the cargo hold's door, right next to the center of Malae's power, she took comfort in the strength of her darkness, and walked in to see her cross-legged with her saber on her lap._

_Malae opened her eyes as soon as Bastila walked in. "It was amazing!" she began, her voice soft enough to turn Bastila's knees back into jelly. "I touched her mind. She was so ancient, so powerful...I saw the history of Manaan in her thoughts, Bastila." She smiled. "I could share it with you, if you want."_

_And Bastila suddenly_ did _want that - she wanted to share everything with Malae, just as she always did, and she wanted to tell her everything that had forced them apart, and without meaning to she dissolved the block on their bond as she approached Malae and took her by the shoulders and kissed her._

_Bastila reveled in the confusion she felt coming from Malae, the gratification as their lips met, the feeling of Malae's hand gripping the back of her head, her arm around her waist. Finally, she'd brought her down, she'd allowed herself to feel things that Jedi were never supposed to feel. But suddenly, Malae pushed her off, panting._

" _What are you doing?" she asked. The blue eyes pierced through the fog in Bastila's mind, and she could think of nothing but kissing her again, to indulge the lust that burned within her, to take her and_ own _her - but as she moved in, Malae put a hand on her chest and stopped her. "Bastila..."_

" _Just let me do this," Bastila growled, grabbing Malae's wrists and pushing her against the wall. "I need this. And you want it."_

_Malae struggled under her grip. Bastila knew she was more than strong enough to force her off, but she wasn't using her full strength, and Bastila took advantage - she forced their lips together and pressed her body against Malae's, moaning as she finally felt what she had wanted for so long. But Malae finally found her will, and shoved her back, freeing her wrists and sending Bastila backward into a sitting position._

" _Bastila, stop," Malae warned, wiping sweat from her forehead. "Don't do this."_

" _You want it," Bastila repeated, a choke in her voice. "I know you do. I felt it on Kashyyyk."_

" _Not like this." Malae sighed. "I want you to_ like _being with me. I want it to feel good. I don't want you to just come in here and ravish me and then run away into denial and self-hatred again."_

" _Love_ is _pain," Bastila countered. "Love is frustration and jealousy and not being able to control yourself and...and..." Tears stung at her eyes, and as she desperately tried to wipe them away, Malae embraced her._

" _You keep thinking you know what love is," she murmured as Bastila sputtered and sobbed. "Maybe it's time to admit that you don't."_

_Bastila tried to respond, but she couldn't find the words, could only manage a few sharp breaths before just burying her head in Malae's shoulder._

" _It's okay," she whispered, stroking Bastila's back. "Let it out."_

" _I failed you," Bastila forced out. "I'm sorry, I failed you, you never needed me, all I ever did was hold you back..."_

" _No, you didn't." Malae squeezed harder. "I did all of this for you. I took my love for you and I tried to show it to everyone around me, even the darkest of people, even the animals. I-I'm sorry it hurt you so much. I didn't know. When I saw how you were dealing with your feelings, I didn't know what to do, so I just kept trying to be better. I should have come to you earlier." She pulled away, those blue eyes again staring right into Bastila's soul. "I'll never leave you again, all right?"_

_Bastila nodded, a familiar warmth filling her stomach as she stared at this beautiful, perfect woman. No matter what she had been before, Malae seemed like the only person in the galaxy who mattered, and Bastila was willing to give herself over to her, ready to learn whatever she had to teach._

_But the ship suddenly shuddered, and alarm bells rang out as Carth's voice came over the intercom:_

" _Sith Interdictor ship! We're caught in a tractor beam and I can't pull us out! All hands to the commons!"_

_Malae pulled Bastila to her feet and kissed her softly. "We'll be okay," she said. "I promise."_

The first thing Bastila thought, upon waking up in total darkness, was _liar._

* * *

Carth sucked down his third cup of awful ship-grade coffee as he stared at the commons console. He'd been in orbit for hours after the twi'lek left, waiting for Malae to check in like she promised. Even Mission had given up on the pazaak games and went to bed, leaving him alone with his feet on the table and shaking in his fingers.

When the call finally came, he jumped and dumped the remainder of the cup into his lap, swearing profusely - thankfully, the pot had gone cold hours ago. He scrambled to answer the call, and beheld Malae in a Sith academy uniform, crouching down over her personal holocommunicator.

"About time," Carth grumbled.

"They wouldn't let me go until they'd finished explaining how this whole system works," Malae explained. "Apparently all us 'hopefuls' are competing for a spot in the academy. The most promising one of us is going into the tomb of Naga Sadow - I think that's where the Star Map is."

"Can't you just go in there yourself and get this over with?" Carth asked.

Malae shook her head. "No good. It's locked, and only the academy master has the key. Luckily I've gotten a...friend, of sorts, in the academy. She's going to help me get enough prestige to get into the tomb."

"How long is this gonna take?"

"I don't know. I might be able to do it in a couple of days. What happened with that twi'lek, by the way?"

Carth shrugged. "I'm still not sure, honestly. He just said that the bartender of the cantina has a few choice items for Revan. Apparently he thinks you're gonna win the war."

"Good to have the confidence of strangers, I guess," Malae said. She suddenly looked away. "There's...there's one more thing, Carth. You said your son was named Dustil?"

Carth jolted forward in his seat, putting his elbows on the table. "What?"

Malae sucked in air through her teeth. "I don't know how to say this, Carth, but...there's a Sith student here named Dustil. And he looks just like you."

"You're sure?"

"It's hard to say why, but yes," Malae said. "I thought you should know. I don't know if we should - I mean, it's hard enough to keep our cover..."

"You just want to leave him there?!" Carth shouted. "That's my son!"

"I don't know, Carth. I've only just gotten here. I haven't even spoken to him yet."

"I'm coming down there."

" _No_ , Carth. This is too important. I'll talk to him tomorrow, get him to come to the cantina where we won't be watched by the Sith. You can meet us there." She put her hands together. "Please, Carth. Let me handle this, just for a while. I can do this."

"And how are you going to get him to come out?"

Malae smirked. "Onasi, please. I can bat my eyelashes at anyone and get them dancing to my tune in minutes. You think I didn't notice the way you liked to stare on Taris?" she asked, putting a hand on her hip. "How long _did_ it take you to figure out you were barking up the wrong tree, anyway?"

"Not now, Mal," Carth sighed, then cursed himself for using the old nickname. "Look just - just be careful, all right? This is my son. I thought he was dead."

"I will, Carth. It'll be okay. I promise." Malae shut off her communicator and left Carth alone in the darkness and silence of the commons. Or so he thought.

"Query: Is the master in harm's way?" HK-47 asked from the darkened alcove. Carth yelped as the glowing orange slits of his eyes came into view.

"I thought you were powered down!" Carth accused.

"Explanation: I am programmed to listen and record, even in a deactivated state, so as to better fulfill my espionage and assassination protocols," HK-47 said. "Loaded Statement: I am capable of infiltrating this Sith academy with little difficulty."

"What are you implying?" Carth asked.

"Statement: You have expressed doubts as to the identity of the individual known as 'Dustil'. Extrapolation: You would like to confirm his identity before meeting with him. If I could infiltrate the facility and observe the subject, I can report back to you and assuage your fears. Addendum: And since the master has left me under your command for the time being, I will finally be able to do something that isn't hanging around the Mandalorian meatbag as he talks about swoop bikes."

Carth considered for a moment as the assassin droid stared down at him. "How will I get you down there?"

"Answer: You need simply to drop me off in a sector of Korriban that is outside the Dreshdae settlement's sensor range. I am quite capable of traversing this planet's surface, and can then pose as a new protocol and translation droid for the tombs in the Valley of the Dark Lords."

"All right," Carth said, rising from his seat and heading to the cockpit.

"Giddy Exclamation: Excellent! I shall begin preparations immediately."

As Carth took the Hawk down to the surface of Korriban once again, he hoped that he wasn't making a huge mistake.


	6. Chapter 6

Raven stirred, her eyes struggling to open as footsteps destroyed her dreams. She smiled as she heard them approaching her bed - only one person would dare enter her cabin in the night. She closed her eyes and shifted her body to lay on her back, grinning as she felt her bed give under the weight of another, the distinct impression of hands to either side of her. "Why, hello, Karyn," she purred, opening her eyes and reaching up to cup her lover's chin - and then felt a fleshy head-tail.

"Who?"

The voice was unfamiliar, and Raven squinted to see who her visitor really was, but beheld nothing but darkness. And then, rapidly, Raven was falling; Raven was in some ancient temple, reading Sith words and pointing out "revan" and "malak"; Revan was opening a Star Map; Revan was raising her saber against Bastila; and now Malae was lying in the Sith Academy, with Yuthura Ban practically on top of her. She shook her head vigorously to clear the dream, the memory, whatever it was, and Yuthura closed the distance between them. Malae could feel the heat of the twi'lek's face on her own, and pushed her back.

"What are you _doing_?" she asked as Yuthura pressed back.

"What does it look like?" Yuthura murmured, leaning down and gently grazing Malae's neck with her lips. "I can feel the need from you. Your dreams were so _strong,_ just like everything about you..."

Malae shoved her off, scrambling to sit up. " _No._ " She crossed her arms over her chest. "What's wrong with you? When did I ever-"

"I-I'm sorry," Yuthura stammered, backing up. "I just thought-we spent so long talking today, no one's ever - I mean, not since I joined the Sith, I thought you...wanted something from me. So I..." She gulped. "I thought I'd..."

"Take control." Malae put a hand to her forehead and sighed. "Maybe I just wanted to get to know you. Is that so bad?"

"You're not like the others, are you?" Yuthura said, cocking her head. "Are you really going to help me kill Uthar? What's going on in that tricky little head of yours?"

"The plan's still on, Yuthura, but not if you don't get out of my room _right now_ ," Malae warned. Yuthura quickly jumped off the bed and headed for the doorway. As she used the Force to slide the stone slots apart, light flooded in from the torches in the halls and outlined her barely-clad figure. Malae had to admit that it wasn't an unpleasant image, and for a moment, she felt the urge to call out to her; for a moment she wanted to _take_ Yuthura for all she had, and then there were memories, of pulling the lekku of twi'lek slave girls taken to fill the hole left by someone else, of abuses and cruelty for her own twisted desires and hollow satisfaction, and for a moment she felt dirty and shameful and wrong. But only for a moment. Yuthura fled, the door closed, and Malae was left alone.

She slid back into her covers and clutched her head, trying to bring back the dreams of a woman with fluffy dirty blond hair and strong green eyes. The name _Karyn_ repeated itself in her mind, but all she could see was a room filled with holocrons, all speaking the Sith code.

She awoke some time later, not sure how much of what she'd seen had been memories and how much had been dreams. Something in this planet seemed to trigger both without regard for Malae's own wellbeing. She dressed in the academy uniform that had been provided for her, and mentally took down a list of what she had to do today: Convince Dustil to meet her at the cantina, head down to the Valley of the Dark Lords to find things to give to Uthar, and find a way to help that Mandalorian prisoner.

Yet as soon as she stepped out of her room she found herself looking over to the right, to Yuthura's closed door. As powerful and alluring as she was, Malae knew that rejection had to hurt, and when she remembered the hours she'd spent in that room just talking to her about why she'd come here, why she'd left the Jedi, she felt a sudden powerful spike of guilt in her gut. She remembered bargaining with a Hutt for the girls of Sleheyron; and she remembered reaching for Yuthura's hand as she recounted killing that Hutt with her own hands. _No wonder she expected me to be some kind of predator_ , Malae thought, _there's no one else here who would touch her without wanting more._

She made a decision, and knocked twice, not knowing if she could even be heard through the heavy stone. When the door slid apart, it revealed Yuthura standing tall in front of her bed, but Malae could see a shine in her bloodshot eyes. "Hey," Malae offered, stepping into the room.

"Do you need something?" Yuthura asked plainly.

"I just wanted to make sure we're okay," Malae said. "I wasn't sure you-"

"That kind of compassion's going to get you killed. I won't have a weak co-conspirator," Yuthura hissed. "Get out there and earn your trial."

"And when you don't have any compassion left, will you remember your fellow slaves?" Malae shot back.

" _Get out_ ," Yuthura repeated, though Malae could see that she'd cut deep - Yuthura visibly stiffened at the remark.

As Malae turned to leave, she placed a hand on the doorframe and looked over her shoulder. "You don't have to push others away to become strong, you know," she said quietly. Yuthura thrust out a hand and gave Malae a solid Force push, sending her into the opposite wall as the door closed behind her. She barely managed to catch herself, putting her hands out before her to avoid breaking her nose.

_Could have gone better, could've gone worse_ , Malae decided, clearing her mind of the Yuthura issue for now. She walked out to the hall and went into the central chamber, where Uthar Wynn stood berating an apprentice for something or other. As she tried to pass them by, she heard the distinct _hiss_ of an igniting lightsaber, and instinctively turned to see Uthar cut down the apprentice with a single swing, separating his body into two halves. Uthar's head snapped over to stare directly at Malae as she gawked.

"You!" he said, returning his saber to his belt as two of the guards started to haul away the body. "You are heading out to the Valley, I presume. Tell me, have you heard of the students hiding in the caves?"

"Yes, master," Malae replied, straightening her back.

"This one was coming back expecting mercy. I assume you're wise enough to take the lesson from what you just saw. If you can strike them down, I would be glad to award you prestige," Uthar said. "And tell me, have you learned the Sith Code yet?"

Malae started to say "No," but then a whisper came into her mind, the sharp, quiet hiss of an ancient holocron. "Peace is a lie, there is only passion," she repeated as the academy faded away.

"Through passion, I gain strength."

Another voice joined her own, the soft tones of Alek beside her.

"Through strength, I gain power."

A wall of red, triangular holocrons appeared before her eyes, housed on viridian shelves against a silver backdrop. The crackle of lightning filled her ears.

"Through power, I gain victory."

A deep reverberating echo shook her body and filled her mind with images of crashing ships.

"Through victory, my chains are broken."

And quite suddenly, there was Uthar Wynn's smiling face.

"The Force shall free me."

Malae took a deep breath as Uthar exclaimed, "Very good, young one! I am surprised you memorized it so quickly."

"Thank you, master," Malae said, shaking her head to clear the streaks of light. As Uthar started to speak again, an idea struck, and she quickly interrupted with, "Can you tell me where Dustil is? I've been meaning to speak to him."

Uthar's eyes narrowed. "Careful you do not allow yourself an emotional weakness, young one."

"I just assumed he'd have some knowledge I could...extract to help me out," Malae lied.

"Ah, very good then. Dustil is out in the Valley today, down in the lower section, looking for a way to open one of the tombs for his master," Uthar explained. "You chose well. He likes your type." With a wink, he turned to a Sith running down the hall towards him, and Malae made her escape down into the valley.

She left the academy with her knuckles against her forehead, trying to clear the images of the holocrons on a dead world. Words came into her head, as if to try to explain the flashback; "Malachor," "Mass Shadows," "Sith Empire." Still, she could not place the memory, could not quite understand where it lay in the chronology of her life, and yet, she knew that that was where she had fallen, in an ancient abandoned academy, the true version of this pale imitation she was walking away from.

As she made her way past the first four tombs, down a long, steep path into the lower section of the valley, she spotted Dustil rooting around the entrance of the nearest tomb. She squinted down at him as she made her descent, trying to determine what the figure next to him was - from the top down, she could only tell that it was a rusty red that blended in with the sands of the Korriban desert. But as the narrow, winding path drew her closer to the valley floor, she had to restrain herself from gasping.

"Translation: This is the tomb of a minor Sith Lord whose name has been scratched off of the door in protest, possibly by his rivals," HK-47 explained to Dustil as Malae approached. "Speculation: It is unlikely there is much of value in this tomb, student. The markings on the outside of the tomb do not speak highly of either his combat prowess nor his intellectual power."

HK-47 looked over at Malae, but made no sign of recognition - no doubt the advantage of being a droid without facial expressions. Malae tried to keep her composure, but heard her own voice in her head ordering him to kill, and had to look away.

"Query: Student, are you looking for someone?" HK-47 inquired. Dustil turned to face Malae, and she breathed and looked him in the eye.

"I found him, actually," she said, a sly tone entering her voice as she pretended to look the far-too-young-for-her man up and down. "Dustil, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Dustil said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're, uh, one of the new hopefuls for the academy, right? If you're looking for an opportunity for more prestige, I don't think you'll find it here..."

"Not looking for prestige," Malae said, taking another step towards him. "Looking for company."

"Quite forward, aren't you?" Dustil said with a nervous laugh. "I, uh, I don't know if I should..."

"Just a drink, that's all I'm looking for. You seem like you've got more of a story than the rest of the bores in this school," Malae explained. "What do you say? Cantina, after dinner?"

"I...yeah, okay," Dustil said, straightening his back. "That sounds...fun."

"I thought so. Can I borrow your droid for a bit?" Malae asked sweetly.

"Sure. He's kind of annoying, anyway. Don't know where the master bought him from, he's a bit strange."

"Come along," Malae ordered HK as she started back up the path to the upper valley.

"Statement: I live to serve the students of the Academy," HK-47 said.

"Oh, and uh, hey!" Dustil shouted when Malae was already halfway up. "You know, if you're looking for something to impress Uthar, you don't need to go digging in tombs. There's this Tuk'ata mother that swallowed one of Tulak Hord's tablets, you can sense her through the Force. It's actually annoying if you're trying to look for something else. You could probably call her to you, or something..."

Malae gave him a smirk and a playful wink before continuing her climb.

As soon as she was out of earshot, she whirled to face HK-47 and hissed, "What in the name of the Force are you _doing_ here?"

"Explanation: The flying meatbag wanted confirmation that his son was actually on this planet," HK-47 stated. "Statement: After you let me go, I will contact him and confirm. I can also assist you in finding ways to prove your worth to these Sith; I was here when you began this academy, and I understand its workings."

"Fine, fine!" Malae sighed. "Look just - just get back to - infiltrating, or whatever you're doing. I need to - I guess I'll find that mother."

"Statement: Very well, master. Continuing infiltration protocols."

As HK-47 stalked away, Malae took a seat on the edge of the cliff that separated the two sections of the valley, and closed her eyes, trying to see through the Force. It took all her effort to block out the whispers of her memories. She had a job to do, and the sooner she was off this planet, the better.

* * *

Firelight flooded in on Bastila's prone form. She shuddered and drew further into the fetal position in the corner, clutching her stomach as if it would dull the sharp pains of starvation.

"Get up," Malak ordered.

She put her hands out to the sides and tried to raise herself off the floor, but her arms shook and trembled beneath her, and she fell. She felt a tooth chip as her chin hit the stone.

"Get up or I'll drag you out of here," Malak seethed, stepping closer. Bastila shut her eyes and felt the fear running through her body, adrenaline flooding her veins, and tried again, pushing off against the ground with the Force. She leapt to her feet, bracing herself against the cell wall, and stared Malak down, suddenly tense with hatred at the sight of his pale, ugly face. A new lightsaber adorned his hip, and he smirked as he saw her eyeing it.

"If only you had a mirror," he goaded. "If you did, you'd know why that's not a good idea. Dear Bastila, you're skin and bones."

Bastila tried to speak, but forcing anything out of her dry mouth seemed impossible, and after a hacking cough she gave up. Malak simply turned and bid her to follow, and she did.

He took her through the temple, all the way back up to the roof. Small pieces of Malak's old saber _popped_ beneath her feet as they headed for a G-Wing transport. Short-range, Bastila thought. Of course.

He took her up the boarding ramp and seemed unconcerned with her as he settled into the pilot's seat. At first, she tried to stand defiantly behind him - but her legs shook, and she reluctantly took the co-pilot's seat, like she was back in the Ebon Hawk and Carth would be beside her and Malae would come in and tap him on the shoulder and-

Bastila clutched at her hair, squeezing her eyes closed to stop the memories. _I might never see the Hawk again_ , she thought, _it's time to stop daydreaming. She's no saviour._ She heard Malak's chuckle and froze, shame filling her stomach as she realized she'd allowed herself to break down in front of him again. But he didn't seem interested in goading her further, even as she threw her head back, sniffed, and tried to look composed despite the gnawing in her chest.

Instead, he seemed more interested in the sight before the two of them, and when Bastila looked up, she finally saw what she and Malae had crossed the galaxy to find, and everything seemed to make sense.

_Of course_ it would be a massive space station, drawing power and resources from the star below it. The three arms that extended downward must be what siphoned a ribbon of light from the Lehon system's star, and the central globe must be the enormous factory that churned out the fighters, droids, and capital ships that supported this insane war effort. Seeing the thing, feeling its presence in the Force, it all became clear to Bastila what the true power of the Sith was. And before she could stop it, before she even could know why, she was weeping.

"Revan had the same reaction," Malak said, his voice quiet for once, as though to avoid having the Star Forge hear of any weakness. "The stronger you are in the Force, the more the power of the Builders, the Rakata, resonates within you. We thought we had fallen on Malachor. But when we beheld this, we knew we had been wrong. The Rakata knew the Dark Side more than the first Sith ever could. They were born within it, their entire race steeped in its power from their origins, and all their technology, all their empire, was built on it." He took a sharp breath in through his nose. "And now, I have conquered it."

Bastila's hands clenched as hatred flared in her mind. This simpering, brutish oaf believed he could control the power she felt overwhelming her very being? This pathetic runner-up to Revan dared to claim such strength? She had witnessed Revan nearly kill him; had seen her strength in action for the first time. And a plan, a whisper of a plan, began to form in her head, born of hatred for Malak and the pragmatism she'd always prided herself on, and she steeled herself for the upcoming days, weeks, even months if need be.

Malak laughed as he pulled them into a tiny port on the side of the station. "Good," was all he said, and Bastila hated him even more as she followed him out into the byzantine pathways of the Star Forge. The great open spaces and narrow, brightly-lit catwalks seemed to serve no purpose or pattern to Bastila's foggy mind as she stumbled along, but Malak followed them like he was born to do it, and soon they took an elevator, passed a room with a great map, and found themselves in an observation room with picture glass windows staring out into space.

Malak led her to the upper level of the room, directly in the center of the windows, and planted her just in front of a square trapdoor. "I have someone I'd like you to meet," he said, and sharply pulled his hand upward.

The trapdoor opened, and a containment device of some kind rose up, nothing but a single pole with large rectangular ends, projecting a soft lightning into the body of-

"Belaya," Bastila whispered, numb. The soft brown hair lay over her fair instead of in its customary ponytail, and her robes were charred and torn, but this was the woman Bastila had chided a thousand times about proper levels of affection towards other students. The woman she'd seen lying with Juhani in a field, staring at the stars together, holding hands. _Another person I've let down,_ she thought. _Another reminder that I'm a hypocrite._

"You even know her by name? Excellent," Malak mused, putting a hand on her shoulder. She shuddered at the touch, but had no strength to remove his bony gray fingers. "The Star Forge's energies keep her alive - but only just. They only preserve the spark of the living Force within her, enough to keep her body stable, enough to prevent her from joining with the Force. She is, for all intents and purposes, dead...except that she is still useful, in one way." His grip tightened. "You can consume her."

"What?" Bastila whispered, staring into the face of the dead woman.

"I pulled her and many other Jedi off of Dantooine to perform this experiment. I have already tried it myself. You can take the last spark of the Force from them and use it to fuel your body, to heal injuries, to provide energy and nutrition. All you need to do is reach out with your hate, reach out with the intention to make yourself strong enough to strike your foes down. And her life will be yours. You will destroy her soul to sustain yourself," Malak declared. "You are dying, Bastila. The only thing keeping you alive right now is the last defense mechanisms of your failing body. In a few hours, you will slip into an unconsciousness you will never awaken from."

Bastila wanted to deny him that truth, to tell him stories of the Jedi prisoners who meditated on the Force and slowed their bodies down long enough to survive weeks without food. But she knew that she could never do it; not here, in the heart of darkness. And that whisper of a plan... she couldn't pull it off if she starved to death.

"So what will it be, Bastila? Survival? Or sacrifice?" Malak goaded.

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a verbal answer. There was simply no choice. Bastila reached her hand out, grasped the spark of Belaya's life, and thrust it into her heart.

Black ink flooded her veins, filled her mouth with choking spit, fueled her stomach with its sick warmth. She saw her skin pale, her veins darken before her eyes as she stared at the rips in her sleeve. The fog lifted from her mind, replaced with nausea, hatred, and a sense of teeming _life_ that she had not felt since the primeval jungles of Kashyyyk. She swallowed the blood she'd drank and turned away from the wretched remains of her former Jedi fellow, to face Malak directly. His eyes were hungry.

"You've taken your first step into a larger world," he said, offering a hand. Bastila looked on in disgust, and he chuckled. "So be it. Back to Lehon it is. Tomorrow, your lessons truly begin."

* * *

As Carth handed a 100-credit chip over to the docking officer, he felt the urge to reach for his blaster and start turning the whole damned colony into a bloodbath. His hand even gripped the stock of his pistol before he realized what he was doing, and he shook his head as he approached the entrance into Dreshdae. It was the planet, he decided, some Sith-y, Force-y nonsense that he didn't have time for. His son was waiting for him.

His eyebrows rose as soon as he stepped into the cantina. It was a tiny, pathetic place, barely the size of _one_ of the rooms in the cantina on Taris. The Rodian bartender gave him a wink as he appeared, a rather unsubtle gesture given the size of the sentient's eyes; Carth chose to tactically ignore it, and swept the room for signs of Malae. He spotted her in the very back, under a broken light, her chin in her hand as she spoke very softly to a Sith academy student.

His shoulders tense up, blood turning to icewater in his veins as he stared at the back of the student's head. Five years since Telos, five years since the death of his son - and yet there he was. A man. A man who was, apparently, in the process of being seduced by Darth Revan, if Malae's expression was anything to judge by - the come-hither look seemed to positively _reek_ from her face. And then she caught his eye, and leaned back, giving him a slight nod as she placed her hands behind her head. Carth took a deep breath, steeled himself, and took the vital steps towards the table.

Dustil cocked his head at Malae, then followed her eyes as Carth approached. "Excuse me, we're in the middle of a conversation here," he said irritably.

"No, Dustil, this is a friend of mine. You're telling me you don't recognize him?" Malae asked, leaning forward on the table.

"Dustil," Carth choked out, then cleared his throat. "Dustil, it's, it's me, I'm-"

Dustil's face twisted into a snarl of hatred. "You!" he hissed under his breath. "And-you!" He twisted around in his seat to face Malae. "What are you playing at?"

"Carth, sit down, Dustil, calm down, and let's look like a normal group of friends out for a drink, shall we?" Malae suggested, slipping her arm beneath the table. Dustil gasped as something _clicked_ , and Malae raised her arm back up to show off the lightsaber she'd just stolen.

Carth swiftly took the seat between Malae and Dustil as Dustil sputtered. "What are you doing here? Didn't you abandon me?" he asked, keeping his voice down.

"Dustil, I-what are _you_ doing here?! These people killed your mother, these people destroy worlds, they-" Carth began, his voice rising as he spoke, hands shaking on the table.

"You _left_ me!" Dustil accused. "They took me in. They gave me a place here, gave me power, gave me strength. Where were you?"

"I followed the reports for years, Dustil, I swear, I looked everywhere-"

"Oh, don't give me that," Dustil interrupted. "You were never there for me, so save it. Always off serving the glorious Republic, weren't you?"

"I served to protect you, to make sure you and your mother were safe-"

"Well you didn't do that so well, did you?"

Carth's hand reached for his blaster, visions of shooting this ungrateful, scheming, evil little Sith filling his mind until Malae slammed Dustil's lightsaber onto the table.

"Would you two _shut up_ for ten seconds?" she hissed, looking from one to the other. "You're making some of our friends over there nervous..."

Carth froze, suddenly realizing what he'd almost done, and looked away from Dustil, who looked away from him.

After a long silence, Dustil asked, "So what did you want, huh? Did you think you'd just show up and take me away from here?"

"I'd hoped," Carth admitted. "The Sith are evil, Dustil. Surely you can see that."

"Evil?" Dustil scoffed. "Just because they have a different philosophy from your precious Republic? Hardly. They're the ones winning this war for a _reason_. This is two ideals finally fighting, and the one who comes out on top is proving its ability. The fact is, the Republic was weak. It let Telos fall, the Mandalorians nearly destroyed it before that, Exar Kun nearly destroyed it before _that..._ This is just the final blow in a long, long death."

"How can you say that when they bombed Telos into dust?" Carth asked. "When they destroyed an entire planet just to kill one Jedi?"

"This is war," Dustil argued. "And if those tactics are what it takes to protect trillions of lives, wouldn't you rather have your government have the guts to do them? Think of what Revan did at Malachor V. I bet some people think _that_ was evil."

Malae coughed uncomfortably, then jumped in with, "What if we could prove to you just how bad they really are? If we could show that they're cruel and heartless for no reason, not to protect people, would that be enough to change your mind? You've been here for years, Dustil. Surely you've seen something that made you question them?"

Dustil paused for a minute, frowning. "I-maybe. But there's always going to be some bad ones, right? I'm sure that there are Jedi who've done cruel things before..."

"And what about Uthar?" Malae asked.

"Well, he's the master of the academy, so I guess he's...he's never done anything _that_ bad. He just doesn't allow dissent, and that makes sense, right? That makes the Sith stronger, and if the Sith were weak, that'd make it so they couldn't protect their people," Dustil mused, his voice less steady now.

"Dustil, can I get your word that you won't tell anyone about this? Just give me a day or two to find proof, and then we can see if you'll change your mind? I know you have doubts. You're too good of a kid not to. No one who was truly lost would've helped me out in the Valley today," Malae said, reaching over and putting a hand on his shoulder. Carth blanched at the sight; even if Malae wasn't Revan, seeing her touching his son was a bit much to take. Still, he decided to let her do her work; she was nothing if not persuasive, he knew that well enough.

"All right," Dustil said. "Okay. Fine. But you're not gonna find any, and if I'm not convinced by tomorrow evening, I want you both off of Korriban or I'm reporting you."

"Deal." Malae looked over. "Carth?"

"Deal," he added reluctantly. "Dustil, I just...I only want the best for you. You know that, right?"

Dustil looked away.

"We should get back to the temple. We don't want the masters getting too suspicious," Malae said, standing up. "Carth, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah. All right." Carth stood up and walked away, without turning back.

He walked up the loading ramp, hoping just to get to bed and forget about this whole day for a few hours. Unfortunately, the ship seemed to have other plans; as soon as he got into the swoop garage, he heard Jolee arguing with someone in the commons. Carth sighed, cracked his neck, and marched in fully expecting another disaster.

"Obstinate machine! You can't keep calling the ship and then not talk to me!" Jolee swore at the hologram of HK-47 hovering above the table.

"Counterpoint: On the contrary, aged meatbag, I will report to Onasi and no other, as I promised him, and as he has temporary authority over me, I will obey that promise. Addendum: It is also entertaining to watch you squirm," HK-47 gleefully informed him.

"You force-damned hunk of scrap, so help me I'll come down to that academy and-" Jolee turned to Carth as he entered the room. "There you are! Blasted thing's been calling for an hour now, and every time I answer he just says 'Statement: Wrong meatbag,' and hangs up!"

"I'm here now, HK, you can stop antagonizing Jolee," Carth said.

HK-47's hologram turned to him. "Greeting: Hello, temporary master! I have come across a document that might interest you greatly, and downloaded its contents to my memory core..."


	7. Chapter 7

Malae wiped the sweat from her forehead as she re-entered the academy, relieved at the cool air inside the stone walls. She absently felt the hilt of the sword strapped to her back as HK-47 stalked up behind her.

"Query: Master, didn't you say we had to speak to the flying meatbag's progeny before the end of the day? Statement: The sun is beginning to set," he said.

"I will, I will," Malae promised, cracking her back and staring mournfully up the ramp that led to the central chamber. "We've been out in the Valley all day, and we've got like six things that should make the master like us. But that also means-"

"Interruption: Yes, sometimes I do forget you're a fallible, fragile meatbag yourself, master. Apology: Forgive me."

Malae rolled her eyes and straightened up, forcing her weary bones through the academy's halls until she heard Uthar's characteristic angry tones. As she approached him in the central chamber, she spotted Shaardan on his knees before the master, presenting him with the fake sword she'd cast off on him. She winced as Uthar ignited his lightsaber and plunged the red blade directly into the back of Shaardan's throat. As he choked and spasmed, Uthar kicked his body aside and turned to Malae.

"Ah, I see the _real_ owner of Ajunta Pall's blade has arrived. He claimed to have stolen it from you, a decent tactic for a Sith...though he should have simply killed you," Uthar mused. "If you would present the true sword?"

Malae looped the strap around her shoulder and showed him the two-bladed sword, handing it to him as he beckoned. She stood tall as Shaardan slowly died on the floor beneath her, the guards stationed around the chamber looking on nervously.

"This is indeed the blade of Ajunta Pall, but others in the Valley have informed me that you've been out there all day, going into tomb after tomb after tomb," Uthar said. "I'm sure you have more for me."

Malae pulled her backpack off and started to rummage through it. "I have this tablet from Jorak Uln, your old master," she said, handing him the item. "He killed Mekel, but I destroyed him."

"Excellent, excellent, I'm glad to hear the old man is finally gone," Uthar said, waving over one of the guards and handing him the sword and tablet. "Take these to my chambers, please, I wish to study them further."

"The students in the caves have been killed, lured into a tarentatek, which I also destroyed," Malae continued, standing up. "The assassin droid in Marka Ragnos' tomb has also been taken care of, I'm sure you heard the reports. I activated a self-destruct routine on it."

"You have done more in two days than the rest of the hopefuls have done all year. And besides, only Lashowe is even left standing...I think tomorrow is the time, yes." Uthar rubbed his chin. "Prepare yourself, young one. I think many things will await you in the tomb of Naga Sadow that you may not expect. Leave me."

Malae gave him a curt bow and headed for the dormitories, past her own room and straight towards Dustil's. She knocked twice, and as soon as the stone slabs separated, she marched in like she owned the place, HK-47 following behind.

Dustil crossed his arms. "Well?" he demanded, staring down Malae.

"HK-47, please begin playback," Malae asked, standing aside to let the droid look Dustil in the face.

"Playback: Jethann, I'm sending Selene out into the lower valley today, near your excavation site. I want you to clear out your men before she arrives," HK-47 began.

"That's Master Wynn's voice!" Dustil exclaimed.

"Annoyed Confirmation: Obviously, meatbag. There is no other evidence which we would present to you because of your astonishing myopia," HK-47 replied.

"I don't remember him being so rude before," Dustil said, scrunching his face up.

"Not the point. HK?"

"Playback: What for, my lord? Playback: Selene is weak in the Force, and in spirit. She is dragging Dustil down with her. I will not allow such weaknesses in the Academy's most promising students."

"This can't be real. You made this up," Dustil said quietly, sitting down on the end of his bed. "This can't be real."

"Request: Please stop interrupting, meatbag. The recording is short, and you are extending its runtime," HK-47 said irritably.

"HK, shut up and play the thing," Malae said.

"Statement: As you wish, master. Playback: What will we tell Dustil, my lord? Playback: Students go missing in the Valley all the time, and we know that she's been speaking to Dustil about leaving the academy. He will assume she left on her own volition. Playback: Understood, my lord. Playback: And if you fail to kill her, you will be held responsible. Am I understood? Playback: Yes, master. Playback ends."

Dustil put his head in his hands. "I believe it," was all he said.

"Then you should leave. Go to the Ebon Hawk, join your father," Malae urged.

"I can't. I have other friends here, people who need to get away too. Give me some time," Dustil asked.

"There's a group of students hiding out on Korriban's surface, in the mountains, away from the Valley," Malae explained. "Go through the caves just outside the academy to get to them. They're using that Mandalorian's ship to set up and escape the planet, before the disassembling droids get to it. Join them, all right?"

Dustil nodded. "I will. And...tell my father I'm sorry."

"He'll be glad to hear that you've left." Malae walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Believe me. I know how hard it is to switch allegiances. But you're strong, like your dad. You'll make it through this."

"Thanks." Dustil looked into her eyes. "Who are you, anyway? How'd you end up with him?"

"It's a very, very long story," Malae said, turning to leave. "Tell you what: we see each other off of Korriban, I'll buy you a drink and tell you the whole damn thing."

Dustil let out a small laugh. "I'll hold you to that."

Before she left the room, Malae made sure to remind him of one thing: "And I was always way too old for you, sport."

"A man can dream, can't he?" Dustil shouted after her as the doors closed.

Malae ordered HK-47 to resume infiltration duties, whatever those were, and headed off towards her own room. She paused next to Yuthura's door, running her fingertips along the contours of the stone. They hadn't spoken for the last two days.

_I might as well make sure,_ she decided, closing her fingers into a fist and knocking. The door slid open immediately, Yuthura grinning from ear to ear, or whatever those nubs on the sides of her head were called. "You did it," she purred. "I knew you would."

"Yes, I was just coming to ask-" Malae began, but Yuthura waved her hand dismissively.

"Of course we're still on," she interrupted. "It's not like he's going to let Lashowe, of all people, vie for the spot in the academy. And I'm sure you'd like to train directly under the academy headmaster..."

"It'd certainly give me a leg up," Malae said. "So we're good?"

"We're fine. Nothing happened," Yuthura confirmed. "Now get to sleep. You'll need your rest." She shoved her out the door and left Malae to enter her room and confront spending another night on this planet. The dreams had been surprisingly pleasant, mostly involving the blonde woman and nights spent aboard ships with her, but there were flashes, instants of memory, like the Sith holocrons; planets destroyed, lightsabers crossing, and the rumble of turbolasers impacting behind her, knocking her on top of Bastila.

She shook her head as the visions started filling the darkness before her. _It would be_ so _convenient if you waited until after I destroy the Star Forge_ , she thought, unbuttoning her Sith uniform. She placed her saber on the bedside table, then finished undressing and flopped face-down into the pillow, and asked the visions to stop one more time.

Light streamed into the room as the door's sections parted, the soft padding of bare feet on stone invading Malae's oblivion. She groaned as she turned over, putting her hands behind her to try and see the intruder.

"Yuthura, I thought I already told you..." she mumbled, but before she could finish her sentence the pieces of the door slammed shut. With a _crack-hiss_ , the red glow of a lightsaber filled the room, illuminating Lashowe's angry scowl from below.

"You _stole_ it from me," she growled as Malae scrambled out of her covers. "But if I kill you, I'll be the only one left. They'll _have_ to let me take the trial."

"Lashowe, don't," Malae warned, calling her saber to her hand.

"Oh, please. If you had the skill to duel me, you'd have done it in Dreshdae," Lashowe said, eyes glinting yellow as she approached the bed. "You caught me by surprise, but not this time. You've simpered and tricked your way through every tomb in the Valley, I know you did, you couldn't have done it all on your own, you're a cripple, you're _nothing_ -"

Revan leapt off the bed as she ignited one end of her saber, giving Lashowe barely enough time to block the heavy overhand blow. Revan put all her strength into the saber, pushing the Jedi assassin down to her knees against the gray metal of the ship's hull, grinning as lightning sparked on her fingers. She drank in the terror in her opponent's eyes, gorged herself on it, let the nourishment of pride flow out of her fingertips and wrap around her saber in great sweeping arcs. The lightning leapt from crossed saber to crossed saber, and quite suddenly the assassin's blade exploded with light and disintegrated before Revan's eyes.

The blade cut through empty space, and straight through Lashowe's neck.

As her head hit the floor with a sickening _thunk_ , Malae staggered back towards the bed. Her saber dropped as she braced herself against the mattress, putting one hand on her chest as it pumped and heaved. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the image of her cabin on the _Interdictor I_ , but its bulkhead had replaced the stone doors of Korriban, Lashowe's head lay on its floor, and she felt the cool, stale air of a ship instead of the musty air of a tomb-

And then the door opened, Yuthura stepped in, and the light from the halls seemed to clear away the memories wherever it touched. Yuthura's blackened veins stretched as she smiled, locking eyes with Malae.

"I felt her coming in here. And I felt you _bloom_ when you killed her," she said, kicking Lashowe's head aside as she approached Malae. Malae couldn't respond - Yuthura's fingers caressed her shaking shoulders - Revan smirked as the slave girl took her own initiative, the beauty of mind tricks - Raven shuddered as Kayrn's lips captured hers, she was always so strong - Malae felt her arms around Bastila, the warmth of her body, the desperation of her darkness through the Force, and then it was Yuthura, forcing herself on Malae again, and for a moment things were clear enough to shove her away. But she'd pushed away her only physical anchor, and she fell through memory, clutching her face with her hands and shaking as she remembered meeting Kayrn aboard the Leviathan, feeling the death of the Force within her, and then that night, screaming at her for daring to suggest giving herself up to the Jedi, throwing her into an escape pod, sending her off and away never to be seen again, and then Yuthura's hand on her shoulder.

There was no lust in the contact, no desire - but the grip was strong, strong enough to pull Malae back into the present. She lowered her hands from her face, and felt the dampness she'd left on her cheeks.

"The Force is swirling around you like a hurricane," Yuthura said, her eyes wide with fear. "What _are_ you?"

"You'll find out tomorrow," Malae said, clenching her jaw. "Take that body out of here, and leave."

Yuthura silently turned away as Malae put a hand to her forehead, trying to maintain her focus on the here and now. Yuthura hoisted up both parts of Lashowe with the Force and headed for the door. Just before she left, she stared at Malae for a moment, and some part of Revan boiled back up inside her. She wrestled with it, clenched her fists, straightened her back, anything to keep it at bay - and then, she used it.

"You may have miscalculated which one of us will be the master," she said with a smirk. Yuthura's eyes widened and she made a quick retreat. _That_ would keep her from coming back tonight.

Malae laid back on the bed, and didn't sleep.

She rose when she felt that it was probably nearing dawn outside, and met Uthar and Yuthura in the central chamber. They made a silent procession out into the valley as Korriban's orange sun emerged over the tombs of the Dark Lords. As Uthar approached the door to Naga Sadow's tomb, Yuthura shot Malae a glance, and a nod.

Uthar put his hand to the door and whispered an ancient Sith oath, and Malae suddenly found herself fuming with anger as she remembered her own lips forming those words here, years ago. She could have skipped this entire torturous process, been off of Korriban in less than a day, and she'd spent all this time sucking up to Sith scum who could never hold a candle to her, and now she could just draw her saber and strike them both down right here-

As the doors opened, she took a deep breath, and tried to remember all the good she'd done in the academy. Despite the deaths of Shaardan and Lashowe, many more people were alive than not. And if she struck them down, she'd never have the chance to save Yuthura - and doubtless, the other students would try to kill her too.

_One last trial_ , she thought as she drew in the dark aura of the tomb. _I'll see her again_. But when she tried to picture _her_ , the image flickered from blonde to brunette. She shook her head. _I cannot wait to get off this planet._

She shook her head and Uthar's voice became clearer, instructing her to seek a lightsaber at the end of the tomb. She nodded and agreed, and set off into the tomb.

She found herself in a cross-shaped hall, one door removed from where Yuthura and Uthar were waiting. She decided to take the direct approach, heading up the central ramp until she found herself at the edge of a river of acid. On the other side of the river, she could see a clear spot just before a doorway.

She smirked. _I bet there's something down the other passages to help me get past this, but..._

She stepped back, got a running start, and pulled the Force behind her as she leapt across the pool, landing safely on the other side. She allowed herself a short chuckle as she manipulated the mechanism on the door to allow her in.

And there it was.

There was no shift, no visions, no change. It was as it should be - the Star Map's three prongs folded in the middle of the room were merely a reminder, a powerful reminder, of days long past. Malae knew, she simply _knew_ , could call the memories at her own will, this was where they had found the final set of coordinates. Alek and Raven took their new names on Malachor, but they truly became Malak and Revan in this room. She walked forward and the prongs sprang open, even as Malae pulled her datapad from her pocket and inserted it into the ancient device's base.

She stood back and watched as the Star Map cross-referenced the new information. The display changed, triangulating red squares popping in and out of existence, until the map finally seemed to settle on a destination. It zoomed into the galactic core, eventually focusing on a single star with an icon hovering over it, an orbital path and flight vector to it showing in green dotted lines.

"The Star Forge," Malae whispered, putting her hand through the hologram and remembering weeping at the sight of the station. A lifetime ago.

She pulled herself together, kneeling down to retrieve the datapad. "I'm on my way, Bastila," she promised, and somewhere, she swore she could feel her presence, as dark as she'd been on the Hawk just before the Leviathan's arrival...but perhaps it was only a memory, too.

She looked to the pillar behind the Star Map, and spotted a small indentation just at chest level. Circling around the thing as it closed, she stuffed her right arm into the hole, grasping a rounded, yet strangely rough shape. As she pulled it out, her stomach dropped.

"Mine," she whispered, turning the lightsaber over in her hands. She'd crafted the outer casing herself, machined it using old-fashioned technology hidden away in the Dantooine archives. It felt so primitive and raw and _real_ to physically sand off the edges of the casing, to bore holes in it, to wrap it around the same fixtures that governed every lightsaber just to make it _hers_. And somehow, it had come back to her.

She experimentally gripped it in her left hand, and despite everything, despite memory wipes and total limb replacement, it felt like that was where it belonged. She pressed the purple jewel just under her thumb, and beheld a deep violet blade.

And she knew that there was no way this was an accident.

Saber still in hand, she marched out of the tomb, and found herself on the edge of a patch of green ice rather than the acid river. Uthar and Yuthura stood side-by-side, waiting for her. And Uthar knelt.

"Lord Revan," he murmured in awe. "You have finally returned."

"What?!" Yuthura gasped, taking a step back. "You-I-"

"Where did you get this?" Malae demanded, shaking the saber at him.

"A gift from your apprentice, my Lord, but I was never worthy to hold it. I knew that you still lived," Uthar explained, still kneeling as Yuthura reeled. "I placed it last night. I knew that if you truly were Revan, you would recognize it."

"I was Revan," Malae said, stepping forward. "I was once Raven Y'tal, too. I am neither now. I am...more."

"Nonetheless, I owe you everything, my Lord. You took me from the ranks of the Jedi and made me a Master," Uthar said, looking up at her. "I do not know why you came here, but I know that Malak will fall before you. There is but one part of this farce remaining."

Uthar rose and turned to Yuthura. "Yuthura, I think it is time to end your plotting. As you can see, you've been attempting to play Darth Revan this entire time. A foolish act, and you were foolishly obvious about it." He unclipped his lightsaber. "I think Revan would appreciate ending your life, you pathetic excuse for a Sith."

He ignited his saber and swung before Yuthura could react, but Malae's blade intercepted the strike. "You will not harm her," she declared as she stepped between them, pushing back against Uthar. She felt fear and desperation from behind her, and drew her other saber and ignited one end just in time to block Yuthura's strike. "This ridiculous infighting ends _now_ ," Malae hissed, and pushed with the Force against both of the saberlocks she was engaged in, knocking Yuthura and Uthar against opposite walls.

"My lord, I have the right as her master to duel her if she wants to usurp my position," Uthar insisted, leaping to his feet. "You know this. She has the right of challenge."

"I told you," Malae said. "I am not 'your lord'. I am Malae. I am no servant of the light, and I am no master of the darkness. I am neither Sith nor Jedi. But I fight for the Republic."

"Then you are _weak_!" Uthar shouted, running towards her. And for a moment, he was Malak, calling her weak, _daring_ to question the authority of Darth Revan, and with her old saber in hand she knew exactly what to do with such an upstart. She dropped Malae's saber and gripped Revan's with both hands.

She ducked his sideways slash, reared up behind him even as he turned to face her, and sliced his jaw off.

He fell to his knees, dropping his saber. Yuthura stared at the two of them, dazed from the impact, and Malae looked her directly in the eye as she said, "I showed mercy to a Sith once. He wiped my mind away." She looked down in Uthar's silent, pleading face. "I'm not making that mistake again."

She took his head off in one final swing, then blasted his remains into the remainder of the acid river with the Force. With a sigh, she clipped Revan's saber to her belt, scooped up her double-bladed saber, and turned to Yuthura.

"You...you're more powerful than me," she admitted,drawing her legs inward. "But I don't understand. You said you're not a Jedi...but you serve the Republic, you told me compassion would...I don't..."

"I believe in compassion, and love, and justice," Malae replied. "Uthar was not going to convert. But I believe you can be saved." She knelt down before Yuthura. "Your compassion hasn't been wiped away yet, as much as you tried. And do you really think that you've gained power here? Do you think that here, you'll become more powerful than I am?"

Yuthura looked down. "No."

"And you know that the Sith love their slaves. You don't have a chance of changing that. By the time you'd rise up enough to make decisions about slavery, you'd be too far gone to consider it. You'd have forgotten..." Malae paused, remembering the battles against the Republic. "All that you stood for."

"I know."

Malae offered a hand to her. "Then come with me, and end their evil."

* * *

Bastila couldn't kill him.

No matter how fast she moved, how hard she struck, how much will she put into the Force, Malak knocked her down again and again, the wooden practice sword leaving huge purple bruises wherever it struck. It connected with her neck and forced her against the stone wall of the temple once again, knocking the quarterstaff out of her hands and sending her to the ground.

"Get up," Malak ordered. And as hard as Bastila tried, she couldn't get to anything above a kneel. He chuckled. "And now you understand who is master, and who is the student. Now _get up._ " He thrust his hand upward and Forced Bastila to her feet. "One day, you will learn all I have to teach...but the best teacher is adversity."

Malak turned to the door behind him and waved it open, revealing three young men clad in Sith robes. "Come in. It's time for tryouts." The Sith filtered in, all standing on Malak's side of the tiny room where he'd once tortured Bastila.

"You four are my most gifted apprentices," Malak rasped. "But there is only one master, and one apprentice." He reached under his cape and drew out Bastila's old double-bladed lightsaber, tossing it behind his back casually. "Kill her, and your chances go up."

Bastila barely managed to catch the saber, unable to believe what she was seeing, or hearing. She was sure he'd destroyed her saber, certain she'd never see it again. And now - now, after nearly killing her, he was going to send her up against three of the best Sith in the galaxy? Was _this_ how Malak strategized? Even as Malak left the room, she thought, _Revan would know better._

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she almost didn't react to the first lightsaber swung her way. Shaken out of her head, she ducked it, then activated her saber just as another saber came screaming in from the left. She caught three separate sabers on the golden glow of her blades, pushing against the combined strength of the three Sith, and she realized that there was no strength in her muscles; she would fall in seconds if she didn't do something. And she remembered Malak's lesson aboard the Star Forge.

She deactivated her saber and ducked, sending all three Sith colliding into one another as she rolled between the center one's legs. Before they had time to recover, she turned, still unable to rise, and reached out her hand. She grasped the spark of the Force within one of them, holding on tightly, so much more difficult to remove than Belaya - but with a strong tug, a burning desire to _survive,_ Bastila tore it from his body and drew it into her heart. He collapsed instantly just as the other two turned to face her. She rose, felt the boiling hatred for Malak within her, hatred for making her do these horrific things, and she let it loose.

They weren't ready for the torrent of lightning she unleashed. They slammed into the wall and writhed in it, crying out in pain - until one managed to re-ignite his saber and block the blast. His companion remained still and whimpering on the ground, but he stood defiant against the storm, absorbing the last of Bastila's energy with his red blade. Bastila snorted, this one last pathetic Sith standing against her. She lit her saber as he started to circle the room, stepping over the still-writhing body of the other student. Bastila followed suit, and the two paced and stared each other down, waiting to see who would attack first.

In the end, the apprentice leapt at her, and made his final mistake. Bastila sidestepped his stab, sliding his saber along one blade and then turning the other into his torso. The two halves of his body barely lost any momentum as they slammed into the wall. She deactivated her saber and clipped it to her belt, feeling warm at the familiar sensation, like she was a Jedi again instead of a disarmed, weak, vulnerable prisoner. And then she saw the dying man.

She'd known he was there, but the reality of what she'd done hit her when she finally looked down at him, flesh charred black from her hatred. He groaned as he looked up at her, bringing singed hands to cover his face as though it would protect him.

And Bastila knew she was no Jedi, after all, because she wasn't getting fed tonight. Or any night. Malak, she realized, was going to have her on a diet of stolen Force until he considered her broken, or worse, forever - for all she knew, that was how he stayed alive. And this was a prime opportunity to feast.

She didn't apologize for it. She didn't say 'sorry' as she stole the life from him, and she didn't cry out when she saw her pale, black-veined hands bulge as new power entered them. She simply felt a hollow disgust at herself...and grateful there were no mirrors.

Malak came back into the room and chuckled at the sight before him. "Well done, Bastila. You are learning." He put a hand on her shoulder as she shuddered in revulsion, wanting to _impale_ him on her saber, kill him right now - but she couldn't kill him. She knew that.

"Come with me, my apprentice. It is time we gave you proper quarters."

As she followed him out, she could only think, _Revan will put him in his place. And then, I will rule at her side._

_There is no hope otherwise._

* * *

Carth jolted awake, found himself staring at the empty space above the holocom table again, and was just preparing to nod off when he realized that the boarding ramp was extending. He tried to get out of his chair, tripped, smashed his chin on the table, and considered giving up entirely before he heard Malae's voice.

"...This is my ship, the Ebon Hawk. Well, I stole it, but it's still mine. You should meet the crew, but I'm not sure they're all up yet..."

_She did it_ , he thought, slapping one hand on top of the holocom table and trying once again to get on his feet. _She's brought Dustil back._

"Actually, maybe I should just call a general meeting so no one freaks out when they see you onboard. Let's go to the commons."

With a groan, Carth managed to get himself upright, hands on the table, staring at the entrance from the loading ramp just as Malae entered the room. But the person following her was not Dustil.

"This is Carth Onasi, war hero of the Republic and our pilot," Malae said, stepping aside to let the purple twi'lek woman through. "Carth, this is-"

"Where's Dustil?" Carth demanded.

"Dustil is safe," Malae assured him. "He's making an escape with a few other students who weren't so keen on the Academy's ways. And with no headmaster at the academy, I think they'll have trouble organizing any search parties for a while."

"He's safe. He's getting away," Carth repeated in disbelief. "But why did you bring _her_ here instead of him?"

"Dustil wanted to gather his friends. She..."

"I'm Yuthura Ban," the twi'lek announced, stepping forward. "And I didn't have any friends at that place. Your friend Revan here was going to help me kill the headmaster, and she did, but then...she convinced me to leave."

"You're a Sith," Carth said, stepping back.

"I was." Yuthura looked him in the eye. "And now I'm helping you destroy the Star Forge. I've done enough for the bastards already, and they gave me _nothing_ in return."

"We have the final set of coordinates," Malae said before Carth could get a word out. "The system's near the galactic core. There are ancient hyperspace routes embedded in the Star Map data that you can use to get us there."

"Can't I see Dustil?" Carth asked.

"A ship going to his hiding place would just draw attention, they're not even outside of scanner range," Malae said. "I'm sorry, Carth, but we have to finish this now. I promise, you'll see him on Coruscant after this war is over."

"So...what, just leave him here?"

"That's what I'm asking. For his sake, and the sake of the Republic."

"I nearly lost _my son_ for the Republic!" Carth shouted. "I've done enough for them, sacrificed everything for them!"

"War hero of the Republic, huh?" Yuthura remarked, putting a hand on her hip. "What kind of soldier abandons his duty in order to endanger his son?"

"I just want to _see_ him-"

"And I want to free every slave in the galaxy, but _right now,_ the way to start that is by destroying the Star Forge," Yuthura countered. "You want to see your son again? Make sure no Sith catch him on his way to Coruscant by _destroying their armada_."

"She wades into arguments quick, doesn't she?" Carth snapped, looking to Malae.

"She's right," Malae said. "This is it, Carth. We've crossed the galaxy to get here, killed dozens, changed lives and civilizations. We've already spent too long on this while the Sith ravage the galaxy. It's time to end it."

"Dammit!" Carth slammed his hand onto the table, covering his eyes with the other. He took a deep breath. "You're right," he admitted, sniffing. "I just-"

"Believe me, Carth," Malae said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The last few days haven't been easy on me, either." She unclipped a saber from her belt and placed it into his hand. "Look."

Carth just saw a lightsaber, but as he looked into Malae's eyes, he knew there was more to it than that. "This is Revan's lightsaber. The academy headmaster knew who I was," Malae said. "And this planet...it's full of reminders, dark side energies, I've been having constant flashes and visions and dreams of who I was before the Endar Spire. And as much as I almost want to _stay_ here, to pull the threads of my life back together, we don't have the time. I've gotten control over it for now, and that'll have to do. Do you understand me?"

Carth sighed. "Yeah. I do."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Yuthura asked. "It's not a short trip."

Carth leaned down and hit the intercom. "All hands to the commons. We've got some news for you."


	8. Chapter 8

Malae did not dream. She felt herself drifting through the harmony of the Force, as though she was meditating, free of the confines of the Ebon Hawk, the stars, the galaxy. It was not a visual sensation, not for her. Bastila always saw the Force in colors and shapes, Malae remembered the sensations through the bond, but Malae _heard_ it. The crystal in her saber radiated a soothing, wafting note; the sleeping minds on the Ebon Hawk drifted through low tones; the conversation between Yuthura and Juhani in the commons created staccato beats of light and dark.

And then, from the front of the ship, a great horn bellowed. Drumbeats and the clashing of cymbals followed it, the tempo uneven but ever-increasing, the shrill whistle of pain joining in as an unending, stinging undercurrent to the entire crescendo-

Malae's eyes snapped open as she closed herself off from the noise of the universe. She took a minute to breathe, to calm the echoes of the past that threatened to overtake her mind. She'd heard this song before, been surrounded by it. If she tried, she could hum the melody.

There would be no further sleep tonight, she knew. Not for her, and not for any Force-sensitives on the ship. She slid out of bed and stretched. Maybe one of the Jedi on the ship would spar with her, take her mind off the approaching darkness.

She slipped out of the dormitory, making sure not to wake Mission, and headed for the commons. She walked in to see Juhani and Yuthura across from each other on the floor, Yuthura's lightsaber floating between them. The outer casing gently slid shut as she approached, and the weapon made it back over to Yuthura as Malae leaned against the table.

"Oh!" Juhani exclaimed as her eyes opened. "You...you are awake."

"Can't you feel it?" Malae asked. "We're getting closer."

"No, we have been...busy," Juhani said, looking over at Yuthura as she stood up.

"I thought it might be a bit odd for me to be fighting against the Sith with a red lightsaber," Yuthura said. She ignited her saber, filling the room with a deep purple light. "Juhani had this lying around."

"She tell you that's my old crystal?" Malae asked.

"She mentioned it...and a few other things." Yuthura gave Juhani a smirk. "I think we have a lot in common."

Juhani cleared her throat and looked away. "Yes, well..."

"You've been on my ship for, what, twelve hours and you're already acting like you own the place," Malae observed, smiling. "You'll be fun."

"Hey, I'm just getting friendly, isn't that what light-siders are supposed to do?" Yuthura asked. "Anyway, you wanted something?"

As Malae opened her mouth, Carth came over the intercom. "We're about to leave hyperspace, everyone. The route was shorter than I thought. Brace yourselves for anything."

"Has he been up this _whole_ time?" Malae asked, shaking her head.

"Haven't seen him out here," Yuthura said with a shrug. "He seems jumpy. Sure he's good to pilot?"

"What, do you want to try? Malak always did my flying for me," Malae said. "Maybe we'll let Canderous do it."

"Because if there's one thing we need when we're heading into the heart of darkness here, it's a Basilisk pilot leading the way," Yuthura said. "All right, point taken."

"I'm gonna go see what's going on up there. You coming?" Malae asked, pointing her thumb at the cockpit.

"I'll just let it surprise me," Yuthura said. "More fun that way."

"See, that's why you weren't cut out for the Jedi. They _hate_ fun," Malae teased. She chuckled at Juhani's sputtering as she left the room.

She settled into the co-pilot's seat just as the blue tunnel of hyperspace faded out and revealed a great white star. "The route jumped us into orbit right over the nearest planet to the sun," Carth said. "The sensors say there's an entire fleet around that star, all protecting a huge space station."

"The Star Forge," Malae whispered. "We're here."

"I've already contacted Admiral Dodonna. She's gathering the entire Republic fleet to strike at it," Carth said. "We did it. Do you think I should get onboard a fighter when they arrive? Not sure we should fly this thing right into the heart of a battle."

Quite suddenly, Malae remembered something. "Carth," she said. "Get ready for an emergency landing."

"Wha-" Carth found himself interrupted by a number of warning klaxons, and the cockpit's view abruptly shifted down as the console told him the comms were down. "We're going down! Some kind of-"

"Disruptor field," Malae finished. "I can show you where to land to shut it off. Our hyperdrive will be damaged, so we'll need to-"

"Mal, what the _hell_ are you talking-"

"There!" Malae pointed at the updating topographical map on Carth's console. "Land the ship there."

"You're-"

"I'm drawing on Revan's memories, Carth, and I know what I'm doing. Get us there or the entire fleet will get downed by this field and all of this will have been for nothing," Malae warned.

Carth swore and maneuvered the Hawk through re-entry, the entire ship shaking and shuddering as its stabilizers blew out and its hyperdrive fried, just as Malae remembered. Carth barely managed to extend the landing struts before they dropped straight onto a beach, surrounded everywhere by ruins of starships stretching back into ancient history. Malae let out a long sigh as she closed her eyes and let her memories of Lehon return to her.

"All right, _Revan_ ," Carth hissed, "Where in the hell are we?"

"This is Lehon, or Rakata Prime, depending on the time period we're talking about," Malae explained, without opening her eyes. "This is where the Star Maps came from, and the Infinite Empire that left behind all these ruins we've been searching through. We just landed on the last island that has anything left of that empire, an ancient temple that projects the disruptor field, to protect the Rakata from their rebelling slaves. Ships have been crashing here for twenty-five thousand years."

"Well, I'm glad Revan's feeling so helpful right now," Carth said. "So we just have to get into this temple and shut it down, right?"

"Only the Rakata who live on this planet can take down the temple's defenses and get us inside. The Elders know the way. There's also a violent tribe, led by a Force-sensitive," Malae recited, images of a red-skinned alien flashing through her mind. "The One, they call him. I tricked both tribes. Told the One I was going to kill the Elders, told the Elders I would destroy the Star Forge. I left them both here to wipe each other out. They weren't worth my time." Her eyes snapped open, and she looked over to Carth. "We need to wipe out the One's tribe. They spend all their time killing those who get shipwrecked here, eating their corpses, and they will not be changed. I will go and speak to the Elders and try to convince them to let us into the temple again."

"You're planning awfully fast," Carth said. "And you want us to just...destroy an entire tribe of people?"

"The Elders should take charge of this planet and bring it back into the galactic fold. They can't do that while savages eat all their visitors," Malae said, standing up. "We also need to salvage a working hyperdrive from the ships around here. You, Zaalbar, and Mission can handle that. I'll send Yuthura, Jolee, Juhani, Canderous and HK to take care of the One's tribe. T3 can stay here and work on repairing some of the other damage while I talk to the Elders."

"Mal, honestly, you're scaring me." Carth folded his arms. "You're sure you won't-"

"I've got it under control, Carth," Malae insisted. "I-I'm just tapping into the part of her that made her win the war. Or I'm trying to. Trust me. That station is dying today."

Carth gave her a long look, as if trying to see Revan's mask on her face. He gave up and said, "All right. Let's lay out the plans for the others. We've got a long day ahead."

* * *

Bastila knelt before the command map, eyes closed, bathing in the contempt that permeated the Star Forge. It was a strange thing, meditating in the dark side; it was not attuning yourself to the universe, but instead dominating it, taking the waves of negative emotion created by every scared prey creature, by every angry predator, taking them into your body and lashing out across the galaxy. She reached her tendrils out, far away, and slid them against a great teeming mass of apprehension. She smirked as the mass festered at her touch, turning from anticipation to fear as panic spread from the contact point. Battle meditation was best done before the battle even began.

A thick, heavy hand on her shoulder drew her back into the physical realm. She glared up into Malak's yellowed eyes and hated him.

"Can you feel it?" he asked.

"The Republic is preparing for battle," Bastila said. "Revan must have found the coordinates."

"Are they? Your battle meditation was not an exaggeration, then," Malak mused. "But it is closer than that. Look to Lehon, my apprentice. Feel the living Force around you."

Bastila rolled, then closed, her eyes, and let the darkness invade her body. As it entered, she felt disruptions in the pattern, spikes and valleys and even moments where nothing came in at all, as powerful signatures vanished. She reached out and saw a grey wave enveloping a bright red pyramid, and snuffing it out piece by piece.

"Revan," she whispered. "She's in the temple." Her voice cracked and she hated herself for it, for the dim pilot light of hope that flicked on in her heart, for showing herself so obviously before Malak.

But Malak seemed preoccupied, staring off into the command map. "I felt her the moment she entered the system," he rasped. "Such a strong presence, even after all that's been done to her. There is such power in her...there always has been. But she has always been weak, and weak in ways I could never exploit. Until now." He looked back down at her. "She is vulnerable. She lets others into her heart and when they betray her, she changes, she lets it twist her. She loved the Jedi once, you know. Loved them for saving her from a Mandalorian raid. And then they betrayed her, they showed their real nature as cowards and opportunists when they refused to help others. And so she turned, slowly at first. Perhaps if not for what laid on Malachor, she would have simply left, disappeared into the Unknown Regions," he thought aloud, "and she would have lost all that strength in despair. And now, now that you have turned against her, she will falter. You will strike her down when she does. Rise." Bastila rose to face him. "One final test, apprentice. Meet Revan on the top of that temple, and show her how weak she truly is."

"Yes, master." _She will turn again_ , Bastila promised, _against you._

The walk through the Star Forge barely registered in her mind as she picked at Revan's signature like a bloodied scab. She couldn't help it, trying to pinpoint its source, trying to see as the Miraluka did, an individual through the Force, just so she might see Malae again before Revan's glorious return-

And then she did, and the fraying rope of their bond snapped back into place. She _heard_ , as Malae did, the _click_ when it happened, and then a single question phrased as a name: _Bastila?_

In panic, Bastila thrust herself back into the physical realm by drawing her lightsaber and singing off the skin under her wrist, crying out in pain as she stood on the loading ramp of a G-Wing. She put her hand on her chest to get her breathing under control as tears sprung from her eyes and fizzled on the blade, lying idly at her side. She wanted to calm down, to find peace, to stop feeling this way, but she couldn't, she was with the darkness now, and this pain would give her strength.

She sheathed her saber and entered the cockpit, then set course for the roof of the ancient Rakata temple. She refused to look through the window, refused to be here and now, and focused her energies on the Republic fleet until she felt the landing struts touch stone.

She took in one deep breath and stood up, half-expecting to turn and see Carth in the other seat. From here, she could see the Ebon Hawk's landing site on the beach far below, and for a moment she wanted nothing more than to return to that ship, return to holding Malae in the cargo hold before everything went to hell. And now her presence confronted her, demanded her attention, and told her to remember that the light had already failed her. She walked off the ship and stood in the center of the roof, waiting for Malae to come up the ramp.

She heard her before she saw her, a laugh, a joke about scrapping all the droids she'd just sliced apart and getting rich. Bastila tensed up, a hand gripping her saber, black veins popping with the strength of her grasp. Malae's head appeared over the lip of the ramp, and Bastila caught her eyes and lost herself.

They froze. Bastila wanted to tell her the plan, wanted to bring her back to the Star Forge and kill Malak, wanted to reign at her side and conquer the Jedi and everyone else who ever told her she couldn't have what she wanted. And she wanted Malae to hold her and stroke her hair and tell her that it was over, and she was safe. And she didn't want to make that decision.

Malae broke into a run and Bastila braced herself, waiting for the saber to come out, waiting for the battle to start, and then Malae's arms pulled her in and held her close and Malae's voice whispered her name and Bastila, for a moment, was home.

"Who the hell is that?" another voice, a harsher voice, asked, and Bastila shoved her off, panting.

"Bastila, what happened to you?' Malae asked as Bastila peered around behind her, spotting a purple twi'lek with a hand on her hip.

That familiar sick feeling of jealousy rose in the pit of Bastila's stomach, and as Juhani and Jolee came up behind the new member of Revan's crew, she twisted it and turned it loose. "Always so manipulative, Revan," she said, taking a step back. "Malak told me of the Rakata. Only with their help could you have gotten inside this temple. You're already back to your old ways."

"Bastila?" Malae asked, eyes wide. "What-what are you talking about, did he hurt you, I swear I'll-"

"Malak showed me the truth," Bastila spat. "About the Force, and about you. But he's still weak, Revan! I saw it on the Leviathan. If I hadn't been soft, if I hadn't stopped you, he would have died right there, and-"

Bastila's eyes locked on Malae's mechanical fingers. _And you wouldn't have lost your arm._ And by the way Malae looked at her, eyes soft and understanding, Bastila knew that she'd heard that.

"Bastila, please," Malae begged, trying to close the distance between them even as Bastila backed away, "You've been tortured, brainwashed, this isn't _you-_ "

Bastila pushed her back with the Force, then steadied her stance and took her saber from her belt.

"I think it is her," Jolee noted, drawing his own weapon as he stepped up next to Malae. "She was always first to doubt herself, to hate herself for her own feelings. Malak exploited that."

"Shut up, old man," Bastila warned as Juhani took her place by Malae's side as well.

"Bastila, it is not too late. Malae saved me. She can save you, too."

"Don't talk to me, cathar," Bastila leered. "You're pathetic. Revan had no choice about her power being taken away from her, but you gave it up willingly, became a pawn of the Jedi council for nothing."

"Is that what you think I am?" Malae asked, stepping forward again. "Just a pawn? You think I give a damn that the Jedi ordered this mission? That _thing_ up there needs to be destroyed. The Sith need to be stopped. But I am no Jedi, not anymore. The Jedi Raven died at Malachor, and the Sith Lord Revan died aboard her flagship a year ago." Bastila felt a desperate reach of hope through the bond, Malae's presence begging to touch her own, to take her in. "And Malae loves you, right now."

"Malae is a fool!" Bastila hissed, igniting her saber. "Love is weakness, it's always been _your_ weakness, Malak knows, Malak-was right." Her eyes darkened. "You would give up this power, give up the strength to unite the galaxy and defend it forever, from Mandalorians and Jedi incompetence and every other threat that's ever faced it."

"You think strength is taking power?" Malae asked. "Strength is having the courage to give up power. You've been with Malak, you've seen what the Sith do to their own! If we allow them to control the galaxy, trillions of lives will end at the whims of the Sith for no reason. And the Star Forge will turn anyone who uses it into a Sith."

"Only the Sith understand power, only they deserve to use it!" Bastila shouted, letting self-hatred penetrate her bones and fuel the Force that raged in her core. "You used to understand this...but now you don't. And Malak does. He is the only one worth serving."

"Well, that's all I need to hear," the harsh voice said, and quite suddenly a whirl of violet energy dove over Malae's head and straight for Bastila. She reacted to the wave of frustration coming her way and barely managed to block the overhead swing of Malae's new twi'lek schutta.

"Yuthura, no!" Malae cried, but Bastila had already shoved off her first saberlock and began striking with both blades. The twi'leks moves were swift and relentless, driving her back towards the G-Wing even as Bastila's rage bloomed in the Force. Bastila's attacks kept turning to parries, and she didn't have the time to even raise a hand to strike her with lightning; wherever Malae had found this Yuthura, they'd trained her well. As the purple and red blades clashed, Bastila caught glimpses of the black veins on Yuthura's cheeks, the yellow tinge in her eyes, and she realized that Malae had turned another away from the dark side, and that was enough.

Bastila pressed the attack and on the next parry, managed to twirl Yuthura's saber out of her hands. Before she could land a killing blow, Yuthura flew backwards into Malae's arms. Bastila gawked as Malae restrained Yuthura from driving at her again, arms wrapped tight around the twi'lek's body as she struggled.

"She'll kill you," Malae whispered.

"Then we all take her at once!" Yuthura insisted.

"No. We aren't killing her," Malae said, releasing Yuthura and pushing her off to the side. "She can be saved."

"I don't need saving!" Bastila said, trying to hold back tears, feeling the love and compassion radiating from Malae and hating every second of it. "I don't need you! I don't need anyone!"

"She's lost!" Yuthura argued. "And she's dangerous. This is the battle meditation Jedi, isn't it? She'll lose us the battle if you let her go!"

"We're not killing her!" Malae screamed, turning and Force-throwing all three of them back as they drew their weapons. "I won't let you!"

"Can't you feel the power of your anger?" Bastila pleaded. "Can't you see? You can come with me, kill Malak, kill the Republic, lead us all to-"

"Bastila," Malae whispered, and Bastila swallowed at hearing her name in that voice, in that perfect and loving whisper she'd always wanted to hear. Malae slowly walked towards her as the Jedi in the back got up, standing nervously in the back, afraid of her power. "Bastila, I love you. Don't make me do this. I know you love me too, please, it doesn't have to be this way. Come back with me."

"I hate you!" And in that moment, it was true; Bastila hated the pain those words caused, hated that she wouldn't just come over, hated that Malae was forcing her to hate herself and everything she'd done _again_ , and she channeled it into lightning.

Malae held up a hand and caught it effortlessly until Bastila's hatred was spent, taking the ball of energy that had formed and winking it out of existence. Bastila stared on in horror. "Come back to me," Malae said.

"No," Bastila murmured, readying her saber. "I won't. Never again. I won't feel this way ever again if I kill you now. You can't make me, you're weak."

"You can't win. You know you can't," Malae said, drawing a single-bladed saber from her belt, _Revan's_ saber, the violet blade that Bastila had clashed with so long ago. "Don't make me prove it. And _don't interfere_ ," she warned, looking back at the three Jedi preparing to aid her in battle.

"Malak will triumph!" Bastila lied, and charged.

Malae stood her ground against blow after blow after blow, not making a single offensive slash, not a single sneaking stab like she'd done against so many Sith before her. She simply stood and weathered the storm of Bastila's desperation until her attacks grew so sloppy that the next parry sent her saber flying against the wall, settling among the pieces of Malak's old saber. Malae deactivated her blade and opened her arms to Bastila. "Come back to me."

In return, Bastila threw her back against the temple wall, called her saber to her, and ran.

* * *

Carth slid into the pilot's chair and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The droids were in the back, making the actual repairs to the hyperdrive, and now all that remained after lugging a huge pile of parts from halfway across the island was to wait for Malae to inevitably succeed at getting the disruptor field down. If anything solid could be said about the woman, it was that she could get things done. Despite everything, Carth relaxed.

Until he saw a ship leaving the top of the temple.

He leapt from his chair and ran back to the garage, skidding to a halt in front of Canderous. "Where are Mission and Zaalbar?"

"Why are you asking me?" Canderous said, shrugging. "Think they're out on the beach, waiting for Revan."

"We need to gather up and get going, _soon_ ," Carth said. "Some Sith just left the temple. They know we're here now, and they're probably going to send down a fleet just to kill us if they know Revan's down here-"

"Calm down, flyboy, I get the point," Canderous said, standing up straight and cracking his neck. "Revan will be back soon and we'll all fly off this rock and straight into the fight. The Republic should be here soon, and I'd bet good credits Revan's already got that disruptor down. Just wait here for her."

"But who knows what could've happened inside that temple? We should go in and check," Carth argued.

"I'm not worried, but fine, I'll babysit you. More exciting than waiting around here, at any rate," Canderous said, slapping Carth on the back. "Let's see if we can find some trouble. There were a bunch of rancors at the One's camp, those were fun..."

Carth shook his head and decided just to accept the help rather than argue. The two of them charged down the boarding ramp, passing by Mission as she chased after a wayward gizka.

"Where're you two goin'?" she asked, looking up.

"Flyboy's getting paranoid, wants to go help Revan in the temple," Canderous explained before Carth could get a word in.

"Carth getting paranoid? Say it ain't so," Mission quipped, giving chase to the gizka again. Carth growled, but Canderous laughed and challenged him to a race to the temple.

They sped along the cliffs and made their way to the clearing in front of the temple. Once they stopped in front of the open doors, panting, Canderous complained, "Not one rancor the whole way here. Knew it'd be boring."

"Come on," Carth urged, "Let's get inside and-"

"I said I'm sorry!" Malae insisted as she rounded the corner. "I panicked, all right?"

"Oh, good, you're safe," Carth panted, straightening up. "What happened in there?"

"She threw us against the wall," Yuthura complained as she came out beside Malae.

"You _what?_ " Carth asked.

"Carth, we...we found Bastila there, waiting for us," Malae explained, coming closer. "She-she-" She choked.

"She's turned to the dark side," Jolee said solemnly, approaching the two men. "Malae was trying to turn her back, didn't want us to interfere."

"She _betrayed_ us," Malae growled, then put a hand against her head, doubling over, "No, I won't, I won't-"

"Malae, what's wrong?" Juhani asked in alarm, rushing to her side and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I've done _enough_ to the galaxy by changing every time someone betrays me," Malae said, rising up and shaking her head. "No. I won't let this affect the mission. Carth, we need to get back to the Hawk."

"But-did you kill her? I don't-"

"Bastila's back on the Star Forge, Carth. And she's going to use battle meditation to destroy the Republic fleet if we don't follow her," Malae said. "We've got one shot at this. The fleet's coming in. If we can get a clear way into the Star Forge's hanger, we can find her and stop her, one way or the other."

"That's the Revan I knew," Canderous said, smiling. "A plan for every occasion, even when she screws something up royally, like your Malachor trap."

"Can you _not_ remind me of that?" Malae asked. "Carth, are you ready for this?"

Carth looked at her, really _looked_ at Malae, and saw who Canderous admired - even through the red in her eyes, he saw the strength, determination, and intelligence of the woman who'd turned back the Mandalorians so many years ago. He saw the woman that Canderous didn't worry about, because she was powerful enough to withstand everything but her own faults, and she'd had so many chances and finally taken one, and learned about herself. She stood tall before him, backed up by three people who would follow her to her graves despite what she'd done to them, because they believed in her cause.

He said, "I'm ready," and meant it.


	9. Chapter 9

In the cacophony around her, Malae sought one resonate note.

She sat next to Carth, but she did not watch the Hawk diving through battle into the station. She did not see the Jedi escort fighters flying into position around her, though their notes sent echoes through the symphony of the Star Forge, much as the soft tones of Juhani and Yuthura did from behind her, tentatively matching each other's pitch. She saw nothing and heard only the sound that matched her own heartbeat in the Force, a whisper inside the command center. She knew the path well.

"We're in," Carth said, snapping her out of her meditation. "Revan telling you anything yet?"

"No," Malae lied, "but I have a plan." She leaned over the console and hit the intercom. "All hands to the commons!"

"Mal," Carth said as she stood up. "You think we have a chance?"

"We have to. Can't have just spent six months wandering the galaxy for nothing, right?" Malae asked, giving him a smile. "Come on."

They met up with the rest of the crew in the commons, Malae standing with her hands on the table and looking around at them. "I don't know where Bastila is," she said. "But I know where we can do some damage."

"That's what I like to hear," Canderous grunted.

"We'll need to split up. We can't have any of you attracting Malak's attention, so I'm going alone through the central shaft," Malae explained. "If Bastila's in the command center or the observation lounge, I'll find her...and Malak."

"And the rest of us?" Canderous asked.

"Hold on," Jolee said, narrowing his eyes. "Are you sure you'll be all right on your own? This is the Star Forge, this is where Malak is strongest."

"Come on, Jolee, have some faith," Malae said dismissively. "As for the rest of you, we're splitting you up into three teams, a Jedi leading each. Luckily I had the good sense to install a few signs for the underlings, so it won't be hard to find your way. Juhani, Mission, and Zaalbar, I want you to take down the external turret systems. Start left as we leave the docks and follow the signs down into the lowest part of the station. Juhani and Zaalbar can protect Mish while she slices the system."

"On it, boss," Mission said, saluting.

"Yuthura, HK, and T3 will need to head right at the docks, towards the shielding systems. Take them down and the fleet can directly hit the station's orbital stabilizers and plunge it into the sun," Malae continued.

"I'm stuck with the droids?" Yuthura complained.

"Objection: I should accompany you, Master, I know Malak well enough to-"

"You're going. Yuthura and HK can fend off droids and Sith while T3 sabotages the shields," Malae interrupted. "Jolee, Canderous, and Carth, I need you here, defending the ship from attack. We'll need a way off the station before it does the whole plunging-into-the-sun thing."

"If you're sure, Mal," Carth said.

"You're keeping me in the rear guard? Seems like a waste," Canderous complained.

"I'd rather have you watch my back than anyone else, Ordo," Malae said. "Tell the Jedi teams the plan once you get out there, have them accompany you. I have to face Malak alone, no matter what. I won't let him take any of you like he took Bastila."

She took a deep breath as her crew prepared their weapons. "This could be the last time we see each other," she said. "In case that happens, it's been a hell of a ride."

"Wouldn't have missed it," Canderous said.

"Got your back," Carth affirmed.

"Let's get _going_ ," Yuthura insisted, grabbing HK-47 by the neck and dragging him towards the loading ramp. "We've got a station to wreck."

As Malae left the Ebon Hawk, the teams split from her on either side, leaving her to walk the central path alone. As the first bulkhead opened before her, she saw four battle droids waiting for her, and swept them off the sides of the walkway like she was swatting flies. They'd never finished the railing construction here after all. Pity.

She drew Revan's saber and prepared for the long walk, retracing steps taken a lifetime ago. Malak's desperation repeated itself in every droid, every soldier, every pathetic Sith apprentice sent her way. She reflected their blasters right into their throats, or shoved them down pits, or sliced them in two; it felt like she was merely wading through Dxun again, slicing away foliage on the way to a real destination. Bulkhead after bulkhead, she stalked the empty steel halls of the Star Forge with no fear, seeking only the sound of herself, repeated far above her. Malak's frenzied preparations, his feeble attempts to strategize and sent forces to every corner of the Forge that Malae's crew had infiltrated, it all meant nothing to her.

All that mattered now was this door.

It had taken two long turbolift rides to get here, and uncounted deaths; if Malae stopped to consider them, she could not open this door. The bond between them sang as Malae placed her palm on the center of the door.

Sealed. Naturally.

Malae drew Revan's saber, ignited it, and plunged it into the door. Bastila's concentrated wail of war suddenly shook and stammered as Malae carved a circle through the bulkhead, replaced with the drumbeat of fear. Malae gave the metal a kick through the Force and sent the separated piece flying through the map in the center of the room, just clearing Bastila's head as she stood to greet her.

"Revan."

Malae stepped through the hole, saber lit at her side. "Bastila."

"You can't defeat me here. Not when I can draw power from the Star Forge. Malak showed me how, I don't even need a living person, I can take right from the dark side energy that permeates this place," Bastila rambled as Malae approached. Her eyes were a glowing yellow, glinting in the light of the holomap.

"What has he done to you?" Malae asked.

"He opened my eyes! He woke me up!"

"He turned you into his little roadblock. He wants more time for something. If you listen, you could always read Malak like a book. It's why he was always so good with mind tricks...his mind is open, and he knows all the ways in," Malae said, stopping as Bastila leapt through the map to stand before her. "And he found his way into you. I'm sorry."

"Regret is for the weak," Bastila said.

"Take his words out of your mouth," Malae seethed, her fist clenching around her saber. "Don't let him win. He can't win this."

"I'll kill you," Bastila whispered, a mad laugh creeping into her voice. "I'll kill you and you can never hurt me again. You can never make me feel like this again if you're dead." She grinned. "And then, I'll go back to meditating, and the Republic will fall, and the Jedi will die, and everyone who put me here will pay. But you'll be first."

"I won't kill you," Malae promised.

"Then don't." Bastila threw out her hands and sent lightning at Malae, who held out her free hand to block it - but it gathered in her palm, faster than she could neutralize it, and soon she held a storm in her fingers that threatened to consume her. "Send it back," Bastila goaded. "Go on, try to hurt me, try to stop me, you can't, you _can't-"_

Malae cried out and put her hands together, channeling the lightning into the blade of her saber and ducking to slam it into the ground. The discharge shook and warped the very metal beneath her feet, knocking Bastila off-balance and sending her lightning into the ceiling. Malae stood as Bastila stemmed the tide from her hands and pulled her saber from her belt, igniting both ends. As Malae pulled her saber from the floor, she raised it to block Bastila's leaping strike, and the fight was on.

The rage and anger and hurt in Bastila's blade drove Malae back towards the bulkhead as she struggled to parry, but not counterattack, to dodge and not to exploit the weakness she created, to defend herself without giving into Revan's hatred and survival instinct. Her back pressed into the hole she'd made.

She pushed Bastila back with the Force and tucked her limbs in, rolling backwards through the hole and steeling herself on the walkway. The door flew apart as Bastila charged through, the sound of shrieking durasteel harmonizing with her scream of anger. Malae blocked her overhead strike, then slid around behind her and delivered a powerful kick to her back, sending her tumbling down the walkway. As Bastila's saber flew from her hands, Malae called it to her, holding it out in front of her as Bastila rolled to her feet and pivoted. She glared up at Malae.

"Stop this," Malae pleaded. "Think about what will happen if you win. You'll be Malak's slave for the rest of your life, or he'll kill you, or maybe you kill him and you're just a slave to the dark side instead. Do you really think that once you kill me you'll be _happy_?"

Bastila offered no response except Forcing her saber out of Malae's hand, grabbing it in midair and lunging once again. Malae parried a few strikes, waiting for the pattern to emerge, and then struck out as another hit came in from the right side - she ducked it, then thrust her saber up to catch the center of Bastila's weapon, cleaving it in two. One half fell into the darkness below the walkway as Bastila staggered back.

"Bastila, I love you, please-"

But Bastila would not listen. She gripped the other half of her lightsaber in both hands, the blade still ignited, and pressed the attack, leading them back into the command center. Malae's foot slipped on the edge of the holoprojector as Bastila came in for a heavy blow. Their sabers connected, and Malae's lack of balance sent Revan's old blade against the wall.

Bastila grinned and drew back for another strike, but before she could land it Malae pulled her own double-bladed saber from her belt and caught it, holding it there as Bastila pushed her down, closer to the floor. As cyan locked with gold, Malae looked past the lightshow and into Bastila's watering eyes, tears dropping and fizzling on the sabers. "Why won't you kill me?" she asked, but her lips didn't move.

Malae shoved her off, and she stood back, panting, her saber at her side. "Do it!" Bastila screamed, fists shaking in impotent rage. "Kill me! Win your war! End your evil! Just let me go!"

Malae stood and faced her. "Never."

"I'm broken, I'm lost, stop... _stop_ _wasting your time on me!_ " Bastila demanded, shifting her blade in front of her. "I know you're holding back. I know you could kill me, right here, right now. Just stop trying to save me."

Malae deactivated her saber. "I won't."

"Why not?!" Bastila asked. "I'll never be the same. I've fed on people, I'm a monster, I'm a wreck, you were always better than me, always stronger, I've fallen to the dark side-"

"I fell, Bastila." Malae stepped towards her. "I fell. You had me at your mercy. I was beaten. And you still saved me."

"Because you were always the best of us!" Bastila insisted, stepping back and placing another hand on her weapon. "Always! You had the courage to fight the Mandalorians! You had the _power_ to succeed, the knowledge, the strategies! What am I? A fancy Force trick. A waste of potential. I've done _nothing_ but guide a false Revan here."

"You saved me," Malae repeated. "And you can save yourself."

"I don't want to!"

And Bastila struck again, forcing Malae to ignite her saber again. But her strikes were uncoordinated, sloppy, with none of the easy grace that Malae was drawing off through the bond, none of the skill that she now knew came from Bastila, nothing but a last, desperate attempt to force a wound. Disarming her instead was child's play, the half-saber rolling to where Revan's abandoned saber lay. Malae stepped back and deactivated her weapon once more. "Come back to me," she offered, and closed her eyes.

* * *

Bastila could not accept that.

She called over Revan's saber, the one she'd sent back to Malak in a fit of immature gloating the day after she'd returned to Dantooine. "I'll kill you," she repeated, her hand fumbling along the hilt for the ignite switch. "I'll kill you with your own blade. I swear it."

"You won't," Malae said, her eyes snapping open and a hand thrusting out and sending lightning into the inert weapon. Bastila cried out as it exploded in her hand, pieces of shrapnel studding her palm and chest as she staggered backward. And then a deeper rumbling, and a tilt, and she realized why Malae had hurt her.

"We took too long," Malae said, approaching her as she shook her head, no, no, they couldn't _both_ die, that wasn't right, someone had to win, someone had to come out of this. "I'm sorry."

Bastila fell to her knees and closed her eyes as the station groaned and shifted around her. She felt a gentle touch plucking the shards of metal and violet from her body, setting them down beside her, letting them go, letting them slide behind her as the world tilted. And then, a healing hand intertwining their fingers, another on her chest. "Please," Malae whispered, lifting her up and embracing her. "Don't make me go into the darkness alone. Don't go to the Force hating me."

"I never hated you," Bastila murmured into her shoulder. "I hated myself." She heard the station cry out as it began its long fall, echoes of Malae's perception of the Force.

"I love you." Bastila heard something clicking beside her head. "I wish you could see yourself the way I do."

"I love you too," Bastila admitted, at long last. "With all my heart."

"Then follow my lead."

Malae stepped back, and Bastila opened her eyes. Malae's lightsaber floated in pieces between them, a slowly drifting cloud of metal and glass pieces, and at chest level, the cyan crystal. Whispers through the bond told her to grasp it, and they both did, hand over hand, fingers interlocking over the living spark of the Force within.

As the station disintegrated around her, all sensations but the Force fell away, and Bastila saw nothing but Malae, her arms open and welcoming. She walked into the embrace, without fear.

* * *

Carth was not Force-sensitive.

So he could not have felt the crystal shooting up through the dying station and into a stable orbital path above Rakata Prime's sun. He couldn't have felt the brief moment of acceptance, of reconciliation, that Malae and Bastila shared as they died. He didn't hear anything but a whisper of the message that Malae sent to the Jedi. He shouldn't have known anything but the hollow feeling that filled his stomach as he backed out of the port, Canderous screaming in his ear, leaving his friend and the galaxy's savior to die.

Yet somehow, even as he fled from the explosion of the Star Forge, he had a feeling. A hunch, maybe. That Malak had died in the observation lounge, waiting for Revan, waiting for his final duel at the end of all things, and found himself thrown out into vacuum when the first volley of turbolasers hit. That Bastila and Malae had kissed, once more, aboard that station. And that Malae had left her mark on that system as surely as she'd left her mark on him.

They all made it out, all except Mal. They flew down to Lehon and received their medals in a hasty, desperate ceremony to celebrate their accomplishments. Carth was officially re-inducted into the Republic ranks, and left not aboard the Ebon Hawk, but on the bridge of a Hammerhead. The Hawk, he was told later, disappeared shortly after he left, along with the three former Jedi.

He kept the Republic strong. Over the course of a few years, he was promoted again and again, until he was quite suddenly Admiral Onasi, father to a Jedi Knight. And when the Jedi started disappearing, he told Dustil to seek the Ebon Hawk, for it was the only safe place he could think of in the galaxy for a Jedi.

The Ebon Hawk did return to him, a year after that, without his son or his friends, only news of a broken Jedi who'd drawn out a terrible creature and destroyed it above the skies of his home planet. As he stood in the dock, staring at the ship, he took a deep breath and readied himself.

When his boot hit the loading ramp for the first time in five years, he quite suddenly _felt_ the presence of Juhani, Jolee, Yuthura...and Mal. He caught himself and choked, and thought that maybe the Jedi should have scouted him out earlier. T3-M4 poked his head over the top of the ramp and beeped excitedly, zipping down to knock against his knees.

"T3!" Carth exclaimed, kneeling down to embrace the little machine. "I, I never thought I'd see you again, I can't believe it, do you know-"

"Where they've gone?" Carth looked up to see who'd finished his sentence, and beheld the General. He'd known, intellectually, that of course the Exile that had been traipsing about the galaxy causing problems had been his general in the Mandalorian Wars, but seeing those soft green eyes, the fluffy blonde hair, the red lips again was something else entirely.

"Kayrn Tekal," Carth said, getting to his feet. "It's an honor."

"The honor's mine, Admiral," Tekal said, giving him a bow. "I heard you were involved in Raven's little redemption. That's why I agreed to meet with you - I'd like to know where she sent the Jedi who left this ship on the Outer Rim."

"I knew her as Malae," Carth said.

"You're going to have to explain that one to me."

"Then let's pull up a chair in the commons and get started," Carth suggested, stepping up the ramp. "For me, it all started on a ship called the Endar Spire..."

He sat back down in those familiar chairs and told her everything, of Taris, Dantooine, the Star Maps, Bastila and Malak, and finally leaving the Star Forge as it turned to so much solar fuel behind him, and then sending his son away to find the lost Jedi. When he was done, all she asked was, "So you don't know where they went?"

Carth took a deep breath, and resolved to tell her what he'd always imagined was just a flight of fantasy, or an illusion, or something that _just wasn't real_ , about the day that he'd left her to die. "Before the station disintegrated," he said at last, "I heard her voice. I think she sent it through the Force, and I don't think it was supposed to reach me."

"You're a Jedi?" Tekal asked. "Yes, actually, I can feel the spark of the Force in you, I've seen it before, in my crew-"

"I'm not a Jedi. I don't know if I'm Force-sensitive. But..."

"But you have a Jedi son," Tekal pointed out. "What did she say?"

"She said..." Carth swallowed. "She said, 'Carth will keep the Republic strong. Seek the Empire.' That's all I heard."

"Seek the Empire," Tekal repeated quietly. She reached across the table and brushed her hand over his. "I could teach you, you know. To use the Force. To follow her trail, together."

"She said I would keep the Republic strong," Carth said, withdrawing his hand. "I plan to do that."

"She could always inspire loyalty," Tekal said, smiling sadly. "I'm not done, yet. The Sith that have been killing Jedi, it was a triumvirate. The last one went to Malachor Five. I need to seek her out. But after that, I'm going after the lost Jedi. Can you think of anywhere I should go, anything I should know?"

"Head to Rakata Prime," Carth said, without really knowing why.

"And if I find your son?"

"If he made it to them, and if he joined them...just tell him I'm proud," Carth said.

They stood up, and Tekal shook his hand. "I will, Admiral Onasi," she promised. "Keep the Republic strong."

As Carth left the Ebon Hawk for the last time, as he saw it fly off without him, he smiled.

Then, he turned away.

**THE END**


End file.
